It's Our Actions That Define Us
by YourCupofCoffee
Summary: When Severus is sent to collect The Boy Who Lived during the summer before his second year, the image of the pampered prince that he had imagined is shattered at what he finds. Will Severus be able to undo the damage that has already been done or is it too late? Rated T for mentions of child abuse. Severitus.
1. An Unexpected Visitor

AN: Hello everyone! If this story looks familiar that's because it is. I began it over a year ago and I took it down for personal reasons, I also managed to lose all of my files so I've decided to rewrite it. If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me a message.

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Chapter 1

A man clad in all black sat in front of a dying fire nursing a glass of fire whiskey. He stared absently at the smoldering embers that remained from a once roaring fire as he tried to control the relentless waves of swirling emotions that threatened to drown him. He downed the rest of the liquor and grimaced as it burned his throat. Tears rolled freely down his face, but he made no move to wipe them away.

He ignored the howling wind that whipped around Prince Manor and was mindlessly turning a small trinket over and over in his hand. It was a silver bracelet that had been tarnished by time; he traced the inscription with his thumb and it read:

Slytherin or Gryffindor, we'll be friends forever more.

Lily had given it to him not long after being sorted into separate houses; something that had troubled Severus greatly. He missed her. Oh how he missed her! Lily Evans, his best friend and later the love of his life was gone and it was all his fault. If only he hadn't delivered that _blasted_ prophecy to the Dark Lord, then Lily wouldn't have been targeted in the first place. She had been the only person who was able to see the good in him even when he couldn't seem to find it himself.

And then there was James _bloody_ Potter and his followers who made it their mission to make Severus' seven years at Hogwarts a living nightmare. It started on the day that he and Lily would embark on their journey to the King's Cross station for the very first time.

 _Flashback_

 _Severus was happy, no he was ecstatic, and was barely keeping himself from bouncing all the way to the platform. Soon, he would be boarding the Hogwarts Express that would take him to the magical school that he had dreamt about all his short life. He would learn so many exciting things and best of all he would get to experience everything with his best friend, Lily. He and Lily were pushing trolleys laden with their school trunks through the station alongside her mother._

 _Severus' father had refused to take him, and his mother was too weak to make such a trip. When Lily's mother found out, she immediately insisted that he could go with them._

 _Mrs. Evans abruptly stopped between platforms nine and ten, and opened her purse; after a few moments of searching she pulled out what she had been looking for and handed one to the both of them._

" _Here are your tickets so you can board the train, do not lose them if you know what is good for you," she warned. Severus looked at his gilded ticket with curiosity. It seemed ordinary except for one important thing, it directed him to platform nine and three-quarters! He nudged Lily and whispered nervously,_

" _Lily, does your ticket say platform nine and three-quarters too? I don't believe such a thing exists." She turned her ticket so Severus couldn't see it and shook her head._

" _No, mine says platform ten. Looks like you'll have to wait until next year to go to Hogwarts," she said with a strange tone. Severus' heart dropped, he couldn't wait another moment let alone an entire year! He was finally free from his father and now he would have to go back. Just as his eyes threatened to fill with tears he heard a peculiar noise. It took him a moment to realize that Lily was unsuccessfully trying to stifle her laughter. He suddenly felt foolish for not realizing that she had been pulling his leg._

" _Of course my ticket says nine and three-quarters too, you prat," she whispered back with a playful nudge to the ribs. He shoved her back and threatened,_

" _You'll pay for that one later."_

" _Alright you two, who's first?" Mrs. Evans chirped. Before Severus had time to ask what she was talking about, Lily had already shoved him forward._

" _Severus!"_

" _Alright Severus, line your trolley up with that pillar there. Good, now go on!" Severus furrowed his eyebrows in confusion; what did she want him to do?_

" _Uhm, Mrs. Evans I'm not quite sure if I understand what you're asking me to do exactly." He felt the heat rising to his face as he stole a glance at Lily who was hiding a smile behind her hand._

" _Did Lily not tell you what you're supposed to do?" When he shook his head she glared rather fiercely at her daughter who quickly averted her eyes._

" _Well it is quite simple my dear, that pillar over there," she pointed, "is the entrance onto the platform. So, all you need to do is go through it." Severus nodded, it made sense to have the entrance hidden from the muggles, who knew what chaos who ensue if one managed to stumble upon it._

 _He took a deep breath and pushed his trolley toward the pillar. Though he did not show it, Severus was nervous. Every logical part of him was screaming to slow down before he crashed into the unforgiving stone; he pushed his fears aside and sped up until he was sprinting at the column. Right as he met the pillar he closed his eyes tight, bracing himself for the crushing impact, but it never came._

 _When he opened his eyes, he found himself speechless as he tried to take in the scene before him. People were rushing every which way trying to maneuver their trolleys without bumping into one another. The noise was incredible too, parents shouting out last minute goodbyes, younger siblings crying out, students promising to write, and owls screeching in protest as their cages were jostled with the bumps of the cart. The best part was the train that sat on the tracks ahead of him. It was a brilliant shade of red that gleamed invitingly to him; it had so many cars that it didn't seem to end._

 _Lily and Mrs. Evans appeared moments later and they made their way to an open carriage. After hugs and kisses for the both of them, the two first years boarded the train and tried to look brave in front of each other as they waved goodbye._

 _Mrs. Evans sighed as their faces disappeared into the train, she hoped that Severus would be alright, he was dressed in her late husband's robes that hung loosely on his small frame, and they were not in the best condition. The cruelty of children was rather infamous, but she was confident that Lily would protect him. On more than one occasion did Lily's accidental magic get away from her when Severus was being tormented. One muggle child had been sent home covered in boils after making some very rude remarks about Severus' mother when they had been in the park. Mrs. Evans had not been oblivious to his less that acceptable home life, and therefore did everything in her power to make sure that Severus knew that he was just as important to her as Lily and Petunia were. So when the list of supplies that the first years would need arrived, she helped where she could._

 _Lily and Severus made their way through the train cars until they found an empty compartment and they stowed their trunks in the overhead racks. After a few minutes of nervous chatter, the train lurched forward and began its journey toward Hogwarts. The two talked excitedly for a while, but eventually they fell silent, content with one another's company. Severus entertained himself by reading a potions journal, while Lily seemed entranced by the window as the world raced by. About an hour into their trip Lily excused herself to the loo and slid the compartment door shut with a click._

 _A minute later, the door opened again._

" _Wow Lil, that was fast. Honestly I swear you have the bladder of a garden gnome," he teased without looking up from his book._

" _Who's Lil? Your girlfriend? I doubt it, who would like someone as ugly as you?" A foreign voice taunted. Severus looked up to see a boy that he didn't recognize, he was rather tall and slim, he had messy raven hair and he wore an arrogant expression under his glasses. It didn't take long for Severus to realize that the boy wasn't alone, he had three other boys behind him who looked ready to back him up._

" _No she isn't, and what do you want? This compartment is taken if you haven't cared to notice." He put up a brave front, but Severus knew he couldn't hold his own for long against four others._

" _Not anymore, and since I'm feeling generous I'll give you two minutes to get you and your girlfriend's stuff and leave." Severus responded by returning to his book, these four idiots were hardly worth it. That's where it all went wrong. The boy grabbed his journal and threw it across the compartment and forced him out of his seat._

" _Are you deaf or just stupid? I said beat it." He shoved Severus hard and he stumbled forward. The boys behind the leader snickered as he tried to catch his balance._

" _No."_

" _What did you just say?" His voiced dropped dangerously low._

" _I said n-" But before he could get the word out he was interrupted by a punch to the stomach that had him doubled over in pain. Before he could react, the leader pushed Severus down and was on top of him punching without mercy. Where are you Lily? He pleaded desperately. Moments later the door slid open, but Severus was slipping out of consciousness too quickly to notice._

 _When Lily opened the door, she was confused to see the backs of three boys forming a wall so she couldn't see around them._

" _Excuse me… move… I said mo-" When she managed to push through, she was immediately filled with rage as she was greeted with the sight of another boy pinning Severus down with his knees on his shoulders as he punched him relentlessly. The leader didn't even notice the door behind Lily slam shut on its own accord, or that fact that his body guards had fled._

" _HOW DARE YOU!" She screamed, and only then did the boy realize that she was there. Satisfied that the other boy had learned his lesson, James got off of him and sized up the girl in front of him. Despite her small stature compared to his, she was a terrifying sight. Her eyes were full of pure hatred and her hands were balled into fists that she was ready to use, but that wasn't what scared James the most. It was her hair, it was whipping around her face as if there was a violent storm in the cabin, but to his horror there wasn't. He tried to run, but she had him by the collar before he could take two steps, and before he saw it coming a swift punch met his nose with a sickening crack. He flailed wildly as he tried to escape and got away when his shirt finally tore; he stumbled out of the compartment as he unsuccessfully tried to stem the rapid flow of blood that was streaming from his nose._

 _Severus lay staring blankly at the ceiling, fighting the black that outlined his vision. He had to make sure that Lily was okay, but he was in too much pain to move. Then her face appeared over his, and she was shouting words that didn't make any sense. She seemed unharmed, other than the fact that tears were streaming down her face, and only after he had made sure of that, did Severus allow the darkness to consume him._

 _*End Flashback*_

That incident was the first of countless more over the years; ranging from snide remarks to full-fledged brawls. Those fights were never ones that he could win, however, they had always made sure of that. The group didn't bother him as much when he was with Lily, but she couldn't always protect him. Lily and the "Marauders," as they called themselves, gradually became friendlier with one another over time since they were both in Gryffindor; while Severus and Lily slowly drifted apart. And then in his fifth year, he had called Lily that godforsaken name and she never forgave him.

Severus sighed as he looked at the clock that sat on the mantle of the fireplace; it was nearly midnight. If he was going to get used to his early schedule again by the time the term began, then he was going to have to stop these late night sessions. Suddenly, the floo behind him rang, and Severus groaned as he wondered who had the audacity to call at such an hour, though he was fairly certain he knew who it was. Setting his now empty glass on the end table beside him, he grimaced as his stiff muscles protested angrily when he stood. Wiping all trace of emotion from his face, Severus walked to the floo. His hunch was confirmed when he saw Albus Dumbledore's head floating in the green flames.

"Severus, may I come through? There are some important matters that I wish to discuss with you." Severus couldn't imagine what could possibly be so important that it couldn't wait until morning; Albus had waited several days before he told the Order what had become of the Longbottoms.

"If you must." Severus unlocked the floo before stepping aside so Albus could come through. The old coot was dressed in pajamas that were rather offending to the eyes; they were a neon green with blinding gold stars that varied in size. The two sat in the plush armchairs that surrounded the now dark fireplace, with a flick of his wand Albus reignited the flames.

"There, that's much better. Now, I suppose you're wondering why I came."

"Obviously," Severus said dryly, he was not in the mood for Albus' games.

"I apologize for not waiting until tomorrow, but it couldn't wait until then." Severus lost his already strained patience.

"If it is so important, then why haven't you gotten on with it yet?" He snapped. The usual sparkle that resided in Albus' eyes disappeared.

"I've recently gotten several reports from Arabella Figg that the Death Eaters have been abnormally active around the Dursley home as of late. So I have decided that it would be best if Harry were removed from the residence early as a precaution, and that he will be staying with one of the Order members until the term starts."

"And you felt the need to tell me this because?" Severus didn't know where Albus was going with this, but he had a strong feeling that he wasn't going to like it.

"Well, Severus, I have been thinking about who he would be staying with, and the only person I trust enough to ensure his safety is you."

"Absolutely not, Albus. If you think that you can barge into my home and demand that I babysit Potter for the rest of the summer, then you are more senile than I thought," he snarled angrily. How dare he! Did Albus not understand what an incredible violation of privacy it would be to have a student in his home? Let alone Potter!

"Severus, be reasonable. There isn't anyone I trust more than you to keep him safe."

"Do not tell me to be _reasonable_ Albus! You're the one who showed up at midnight to tell me this, and flattery will not help your case, so stop. Besides, why not house him with the Weasleys? Molly would be more than happy to add him to her brood."

"She already has her hands full, and it would not be fair to ask that of her."

"Yet it is fair to ask it of me?" He asked bitterly.

"Severus please, it's what Lily would have wanted." Rage ran through his veins, but his years as a Death Eater helped him keep his mask in place; his voice dropped dangerously low,

"That was below the belt, Albus. You have no right to say what she would or wouldn't have wanted." Though he did not show it, Severus considered what Albus had said. He had failed Lily so horribly in the past, and Albus knew how strongly he blamed himself for that fateful Halloween. Blast him! He hated when Albus manipulated him like this; it was times like these when he wondered if the headmaster ever cared for his wellbeing at all, or if he saw Severus as just another piece in his game. Albus put his hands up in surrender.

"You're right, I apologize. But please Severus, you know how important Harry is and what he is destined to do and I ca-"

"Enough Albus, I'll do it, but if Potter misbehaves like he does at Hogwarts, you will be lucky if you get your Golden Boy back in one piece." Undeterred by Severus' threat, the twinkle returned to the headmaster's eyes.

"That's wonderful Severus! I'll have the second year list of school supplies sent here in the morning, and I'll have young Harry ready tomorrow morning." Severus nearly choked.

" _Tomorrow_? You expect me to be ready to have the rest of my break ruined by the brat tomorrow? And you told me to be reasonable," he scoffed.

"Like I said before Severus, I apologize that this is on such short notice, but I've only recently received this information." Severus rolled his eyes, he hardly believed that.

"I'm sure you did, now if you'll excuse me I would like to enjoy my last night of quiet in peace," he replied, his voice dripping with disdain. Knowing when his stay was overdue, Albus bid him goodnight and disappeared into the floo without another word.

Severus ran his hand through his hair and sighed, what did he just get himself into?

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AN: And there you have it. I'm hoping I'll be able to get the next chapter up soon, and in the meantime leave a review!


	2. Discovery

AN: Hey guys, thank you so much for your patience while I pounded this chapter out! I hope it was worth the wait :)

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Chapter 2

Harry lay on his stomach, shallowly breathing in the stale air from his cupboard; it was all he could do to ease the pain in his chest. Everything hurt, there wasn't an inch of his body that wasn't aching. His wrist and both of his ankles were throbbing painfully, he was sure that they were broken or badly sprained at the very least. His back was bleeding freely and he could feel his shirt becoming sodden; Harry knew if he didn't remove it soon it would get stuck when the blood dried, but there simply wasn't any room to move. His face felt hot and his stomach was rolling queasily.

Tears began to sting his eyes as another wave of agony rushed through him, and they continued roll down his cheeks and onto the threadbare blanket beneath him. They began to fall faster as he thought of the unfairness of it all; he hadn't done anything to deserve this, other than being born. Ron and Hermione must be furious at him, they hadn't sent him a single letter since the term had ended, and Harry didn't have the chance to send them anything before Uncle Vernon had snapped a padlock on Hedwig's cage with a satisfied smirk. The very thought of his closest friends being angry at him made him cry even harder, but he didn't make a sound; he had learned to cry silently at a young age.

Harry had outgrown his cupboard years ago, and to his relief his relatives had moved him into Dudley's second bedroom when his Hogwarts letter had arrived, but now his Uncle had thrown him in here as a punishment. When that letter had first arrived last year, it seemed to have brought hope with it, the hope that just maybe Harry would never have to return here. Those wishes were dashed of course when Dumbledore had refused to relocate him; he had mentioned something about "blood wards" protecting him. _A bit ironic considering my Uncle has been more of a danger than Voldemort_ , he thought bitterly.

Being locked in his cupboard wasn't always bad, sometimes it served as a safe haven away from his relatives. Harry was used to getting knocked around, shoves and punches from Dudley, slaps from Aunt Petunia, yelling from Uncle Vernon mostly, but sometimes he got worse than that, much worse.

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That morning Harry woke up early as usual so he could start the Dursley's breakfast, if it wasn't finished by seven o'clock sharp there would be hell to pay. He sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for his uncle to unlock his door. When he heard the locks click, Harry opened the door and hurried down the stairs. He opened the fridge and took out what he would need and got to work. By six forty-five Harry was finishing up the potatoes so he could add them to the eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits, jams and juice that were already on the table. He picked up the spatula to flip them one last time, and-

"WHATCHA DOING FREAK?" Harry started badly at the sudden noise and lost his grip on the pan. As it fell, the pan hit the edge of the stove causing it to tip and spill hot oil on Harry's legs before it clattered to the floor, sending the potatoes and grease all over the tiles. Harry yelped out in surprise and pain, and mentally kicked himself for letting his guard down so easily; Dudley was making a habit out of sneaking up on him. Trying to ignore the excruciating burns, Harry began cleaning up the mess knowing that it would be much worse if his Aunt of Uncle saw. Dudley, obviously knowing this, began howling as if it were his thighs that were starting to blister.

"Muuum! Dad! Harry burned me!" His obese cousin clutched his arm and continued to fake cry with an increasing volume. Harry's heart leapt into his throat when he heard the pair of footsteps pounding down the stairs. Aunt Petunia had arrived first, and frantically hurried to Dudley; Uncle Vernon followed close behind.

"Oh my baby angel are you alright? Don't cry darling it will be alright, your daddy will take care of everything," she crooned. Dudley continued to wail and bury his face into his mother's shoulder. Uncle Vernon stepped around his wife and turned on Harry.

"YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT I WILL! HOW DARE YOU ATTACK MY SON AFTER ALL WE HAVE DONE FOR YOU? WE GIVE YOU A ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY US?" Vernon yelled angrily, his face beginning to turn an alarming shade of purple.

"It isn't my fault, Dudley scared me on purpose and made me drop the pan," Harry said weakly; he knew there wasn't any point in defending himself, it wasn't as if they were going to believe him.

"I WILL NOT TOLERATE BEING LIED TO IN MY OWN HOUSE! YOU WILL LEARN YOUR LESSON YOU GOOD FOR NOTHING FREAK!" With that, his Uncle turned on his heel and thundered up the stairs.

Harry felt the blood rush to his feet as he realized what his Uncle had gone to retrieve. All too soon the man was back, brandishing the leather belt in his right hand. Frozen in fear, Harry couldn't bring himself to move as his Uncle grabbed him roughly by the arm and dragged him into the foyer. He shoved Harry so hard that it sent him sprawling, causing him to land awkwardly on his wrist with a crack. His Uncle kicked him violently in the stomach and chest, knocking the wind out of him and forcing him into a fetal position. That was when Vernon raised his arm and Harry squeezed his eyes shut.

When the first strike hit home Harry inhaled sharply at the sting, and bit the inside of his cheek. He refused to give his Uncle the satisfaction of him crying out, but this only seemed to enrage the man more. By the sixth swing Harry felt his skin begin to break, by the tenth he could feel blood wetting his shirt. Harry's back felt like it was on fire as the belt continued to fall without mercy.

"You. Will. Learn. Your. Place. You. Ungrateful. Waste. Of. Space." With each word another lash bit into his skin, leaving Harry grunting with each blow. It seemed to never end, he had lost count somewhere around thirty and he was beginning to fade in and out of consciousness. Suddenly his Uncle stopped and threw the belt aside, but he wasn't finished yet. Before Harry knew what was happening, his Uncle's foot repeatedly fell heavily on his ankles, earning himself a high pitched scream from the agony of the bones suddenly giving way. Satisfied with his work, his Uncle grabbed a fistful of Harry's hair and dragged him into the cupboard before slamming the small door shut. The last thing Harry heard was the clicking of a padlock before he slipped from consciousness.

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Now, Harry was laying on his stomach trying to alleviate the pain that riddled his back; his thighs smarted painfully as they were pressed into the rough material of his jeans. Harry considered trying to roll onto his side, but the thought of the effort that it would take changed his mind. He wasn't sure what time it was, but he assumed it was still morning because it hadn't become stuffy in the cupboard yet, and it didn't seem like he had blacked out for that long.

Time was his only real enemy when it came to being locked under the stairs. It was always dark, save the thin lines of light that bordered the edges of the small door, but it wasn't enough to see by. This darkness is what made everything seem like an eternity, but the worst part was not knowing when the door would open again. There was always the fear in the back of his mind that one day they would never unlock it.

On one occasion, the Dursley's left on a trip and locked Harry in the cupboard so he couldn't "taint the house with his freakishness" while they were gone. He was left under the stairs for three days without any food or water, and when they finally let him out he was so ill that he had to be admitted to the hospital from dehydration, much to the Dursleys' displeasure. After that incident, his relatives left Harry with their neighbor, Mrs. Figg, whenever they had to leave the house for more than a couple of hours.

Though her house smelled kind of funny and she had a lot of cats, Harry cherished the time that he got to spend there. It was the only time that he got to eat, use the loo, and watch the telly when he wanted. Mrs. Figg even let him help her cook sometimes, but it was different than having to cook for the Dursleys; she kissed his fingers when he burned them, and didn't get mad when he made mistakes. Harry sometimes caught her looking at him with sadness in her eyes, but he couldn't ever figure out why.

Oh how Harry wished he could go to Mrs. Figg's house now; she would hug him and kiss his forehead like Aunt Petunia does to Dudley, and help him feel better. It was times like these that Harry missed his parents the most, all too often he dreamt about what it would have been like if they were still alive.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden wave of nausea; he had started to feel sick not long after waking up. Swallowing the saliva that was rushing to his mouth, he propped himself up on his elbow and blindly felt around his cupboard for the bucket that his relatives left for him in case they didn't let him out for the loo in time. Harry's fingers brushed the cool metal and he strained to grab it, but the bucket was just out of reach. Tears of frustration pricked his eyes as he accidentally knocked the pail further from his grasp; his stomach continued to churn and was helpless when he began to retch. Accepting the inevitable, Harry leaned over the edge of the small mattress as he was sick on the old wooden floor. He shakily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and laid back down on his stomach.

Harry felt a little bit better, but he still felt hot and the acrid smell was beginning to fill the air. Suddenly feeling sleepy, he closed his eyes and unsuccessfully tried to get comfortable. Worry niggled in the back of his mind, Harry didn't even want to think about what would happen when his Uncle found him like this.

* * *

Severus Snape reluctantly cracked one eye open, and groaned; he did _not_ feel like getting up. His head was pounding and he had a bad taste in his mouth. _That is the last time I drink that much fire whiskey_ , he thought regretfully. Sitting up and throwing the heavy duvet off of himself, he glanced at the clock and was shocked to see that it was already nine o'clock; he was not one to sleep in regardless of how late he stayed up. He wasn't really worried about being late, Albus hadn't specified on what time Potter was to be collect. Opening his nightstand, he retrieved and downed a pepper up potion, Merlin knew he was going to need it today.

After getting dressed and eating a small breakfast, Severus made a quick trip around the manor making sure it was properly Potter proofed; he locked several doors in the hall, and put away anything that may peak the boy's infamous curiosity. The longer he could prevent Potter from getting into any mischief, the better, but Severus knew that it was in vain; the brat always found a way to get into trouble one way or another. Walking over to the floo, he grabbed a small amount of the powder and was about to throw it in when he realized he had forgotten something. Returning the powder to the small jar on the mantle and brushing his hands off on his robes, Severus called for his house elf. A moment later the small creature appeared with a pop.

"What can Flower do for yous, Master Severus?" She squeaked with a small bow.

"I would like you to prepare the guest room nearest to my own for a visitor. He will be staying with us for the remainder of the summer." He decided it was probably for the best if Potter's room was close so he could keep an eye on him. Severus smirked as the elf unsuccessfully tried to hide her surprise, it wasn't often that someone stayed in the manor, and in fact he couldn't quite remember the last guest that he'd had.

"Of course sir! Anything else Flower can do?"

"No, that will suffice for now. Thank you." With another small bow Flower disappeared, and left Severus to his own devices. Certain that he hadn't forgotten anything this time, he grabbed some powder, threw it into the floo, and shouted,

"Arabella Figg's!"

Severus landed smoothly, and had to stoop to exit the short floo; looking around, he saw that he was currently in Arabella's sitting room. There were a few armchairs and a rather plush sofa around a coffee table that was laden with newspapers, old magazines, knitting patterns, and a ball of yarn here and there. The walls were a soft pink that went nicely with the light hardwood flooring; the most noticeable thing, however, were the cats. They were _everywhere_ , and none of them were alike. Some lounged on the furniture, others snoozed in the rays of sunshine that poured through the windows, and one was sitting on the coffee table, content with crinkling the pages beneath him.

At the sound of the floo flaring, Arabella made her way out of the small kitchen and greeted Severus kindly.

"Ah, Severus, it is so nice to see you. What brings you by this morning?" The small woman had her grey hair in a loose bun and she was still in her house robe.

"I've come to collect Potter from the Dursley household early this summer, I apologize for showing up without any warning, Arabella; Albus told me I would be doing so last night." Arabella simply waved a hand at that.

"Oh you know it isn't any trouble at all, dear, believe me when I say I know how Albus can be," she chuckled. "It's good to hear that Harry will be taken care of." There was a strange tone to her voice that was setting off warnings in Severus' mind, but he put them aside and bid her farewell before leaving. With a simple notice-me-not charm, he left the house; if there really were Death Eaters around it would be better if they didn't see him going into the house of one Harry Potter.

The neighborhood was eerily silent, and nearly everything was perfect. All of the lawns were cut neatly, the flowerbeds and hedges were pristine, and the cars gleamed spotlessly. Severus couldn't imagine living here, it was too stiff and not at all comfortable.

When he found himself in front of Number 4 Privet Drive, he unlatched the small gate and walked up the cobblestone pathway. He sharply knocked on the door, and waited for an answer; moments later, an absolute beast of a child opened the door. His blonde hair was messy and he appeared to still be in his pajamas, despite the fact that it was nearly ten o'clock. Not to mention he looked like a flubberworm that had sprouted arms and legs. Before Severus had the chance to open his mouth, the boy asked rudely,

"Who're you and what do you want?" Severus was a bit taken aback at his attitude, any child that ever spoke to him that way usually had a death wish. Then again, considering who his parents were it wasn't really that surprising that he acted this way. With a withering glare that had his seventh years squirming, he replied,

"That is none of your business, now I suggest you go get your mother before I change my mind about ignoring your abysmal behavior." The child flinched at his tone, but before he had a chance to respond, the sound of heels clicking on the wooden floor and a nasally voice was heard.

"Who's at the door sweetheart? I wasn't expecting any-" Petunia stopped short when she saw Severus, and visibly paled.

"Dudley, darling, go up to your room and don't come down until I say."

"But Mum I don-"

" _Now._ " The boy, obviously not used to being told what to do, was so surprised at the sudden sternness that he obeyed without another word; the two remained silent until they heard a door shut.

"What do you want?" She hissed, obviously not pleased by her present company.

"I'm here for Potter, now I suggest you let me in unless you want your _lovely_ door blasted off of its hinges," he threatened. After opening the door just wide enough for him to slip through, she hastily shut it behind him.

"I'm _so_ sorry to disappoint you, but he isn't here; he is spending the night at a friend's house," Petunia scoffed. A quick glance at her eyes told him she was lying. The house, like the rest of the neighborhood was disturbingly spotless; there were numerous photos of the family hanging on the walls, but oddly enough he did not see Potter in any of them.

"Enough of the lies, _Tuney_. My patience is beginning to run thin," Severus warned as something strange caught his eye. It was the glint from the metal of a padlock fastened to a small door under the stairs, but that wasn't what intrigued him as it was not uncommon for parents to lock storage spaces to keep children out. What interested Severus was the lock itself, it was huge. It was obviously more than strong enough to keep a nosy child out, then why use an unnecessarily heavy bolt? Suddenly a chilling thought crossed Severus' mind.

 _It's definitely strong enough to keep someone in._

"Like I said, he isn't here. Now leave before I call the police." Severus rolled his eyes.

"Enough of the dramatics, you and I both know that you wouldn't even make it to the phone." Severus paused to allow the effects of what he was implying sink in. "Now, since you won't tell me where he is I'll just have to find Potter myself." Laying his wand in the palm of his hand, he cast a simple point me spell. Like a needle on a compass, the wand spun and when it came to a stop Severus' fears were confirmed, it pointed toward the stairs.

With a sinking feeling, he walked toward the small door and kneeled in front of it, inspecting the solid lock.

"Take on more step and I'll cut the foot off," he growled without turning around. Immediately Petunia froze, her attempted escape hadn't been as silent as she thought.

With slightly trembling hands, he flicked his wand and wordlessly unlocked the padlock, letting it fall to the floor. Severus flipped the latch and slowly creaked the door open; the smell assaulted him before he was able to fully register what he was seeing. A mixture of blood, vomit, sweat, and stale urine had his eyes watering, and him resisting the urge to gag. Potter was lying face down on a small mattress that looked to be from an old crib, his head nearest to the door. The back of his shirt was heavily stained with blood, and his wrist looked like it was bent at an awkward angle.

White hot fury consumed Severus as he looked at Lily's child; her legacy that she had given her life for was being beaten and locked in a cupboard. Before he knew what he was doing, Severus had Petunia pinned to the wall with his hand around her neck. How badly he wanted to squeeze the life out of her then and there, but he knew that all that would get him was a one-way ticket to Azkaban. Instead he leaned forward, bringing his face inches from hers.

"You will pay for this. Mark my words Petunia Dursley, when I'm through with you you'll wish you were never born," he snarled. He held his piercing gaze for a few moments before releasing her, leaving the horse faced woman gasping for air as she slid down the wall.

Turning back to the cupboard, Severus crouched down and got a good look at everything; his memories would ensure that these people were going to be locked away for the rest of their miserable lives. Getting on his knees, he grabbed Potter from underneath his arms and began sliding him out of the cramped space. Severus got him halfway out before the boy began to stir; thinking quickly, he put a light sleep spell on him. When the child settled again, Severus continued to carefully remove him from the cupboard until he was free and laying in the middle of the foyer. He then looked around the space for anything that Potter may have wanted to take with him, he knew how sentimental children could be. When he found nothing he decided that this wasn't Potter's room. Standing up, Severus turned to Petunia, who was still sitting against the wall.

"Where is Potter's room?" He asked harshly, Severus was done tolerating anymore lies. She wordlessly pointed at the stairs with a shaking hand.

It wasn't difficult finding with door belonging to Potter, what other twelve year old had three deadbolts and a cat flap on theirs? Unlocking them and opening the door, he was further discouraged at what he saw. The room resembled a prison cell more than a bedroom; there were bars on the windows and the only furniture in the room was a rickety bed and a small wardrobe. Potter's things were strewn about the room, and his trunk lay open with his school robes haphazardly thrown inside.

 _He didn't know I was coming._

Either Albus never sent the letter, or Petunia had refused to tell him. Deciding on the latter, Severus heard a faint noise coming from the corner of the room; he soon realized it was Potter's owl. She was incredibly thin, and her once brilliantly white plumage seemed dingy and grey; her cage was filled with droppings. Recognizing her cry for what it was, Severus unlocked the cage and allowed her to perch on his wrist. Potter's things could wait, he now had two lives depending on him.

He left the room and spelled the door shut so only he could open it, Severus knew they would try to hide the evidence of their neglect now that they had been caught. Walking back down the stairs, he locked the cupboard as well. Seeing her master in his current state, Hedwig hooted agitatedly and flew up to Severus' shoulder.

Severus knelt and gently picked up Potter, moving him as little as possible to avoid injuring him further. Looking around, Severus didn't see the vile woman anywhere, but frankly he didn't care. He quickly left the house and walked down the sidewalk toward Arabella's. Despite the fact that the notice-me-not charm was still active, Severus was paranoid that someone would see them. As tempting as it was to run all the way to the house, he decided against it; the charm made them ignorable, but not invisible.

When he finally reached the small house, and went through the door, Severus all but ran to the floo, earning himself an angry hoot from Hedwig. Arabella, who had been sitting on her couch knitting, leapt up and threw down the yarn.

"What happened? What did they do to him?!" She asked frantically.

"I'll explain later, Bella, right now I need to get him to Poppy. I will tell you this, Potter will return there over my dead body!" With that last declaration, Severus grabbed a handful of floo powder, threw it into the fireplace, and disappeared into the green flames.

Landing in his home, Severus strode across his sitting room and carried Potter upstairs to the guestroom. Opening the door with his free hand, Severus called for his house elf, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice.

"Flower! I require assistance at once!" The elf appeared with a pop.

"What can Flower-"

"Fetch my first aid kit, some warm water, and a towel, quickly!" Sensing the seriousness of the situation, she disappeared without another word. Severus walked to the full sized bed, and carefully laid Potter down and rolled him onto his stomach. Hedwig leapt from his shoulder and positioned herself directly above her master on the headboard; Severus could feel her keen eyes watching his every move. Flower reappeared with his supplies and set them on the nightstand beside the bed.

First, Severus began the tedious process of removing Potter's shirt. Usually he would have just cut it off, but now that the blood had dried it was literally glued to his back. Dipping the small towel into the bowl of water, he dabbed it into the fabric several times until he felt the shirt begin to loosen, then he wet the rag again and continued. After over twenty minutes, the water was the color of rust, and Severus was finally able to cut the shirt down the back and peel it open.

The poor child's back was littered with angry looking welts, and raw lash marks crisscrossed all over his back. Underneath the fresh wounds Severus could make out scars from previous whippings; this had obviously been going on for a long time. Severus closed his eyes and took a deep breath as rage threatened to consume him again; now was not the time to lose it, he could do that later.

Opening the kit on the nightstand, he retrieved a small pot of healing salve and gingerly began massaging it into the boy's skin. Potter whimpered in his sleep at the touch, but didn't wake up as Severus continued. Once his back looked a bit better, he applied some light bandages that would prevent the balm from getting all over the sheets, and protect him from worsening the wounds. He wiped his hands off on the towel, and drew his wand to cast a relatively simple diagnostic spell; Severus needed to know how serious his injuries were so he could decide if he needed Poppy or not. The mediwitch had been taking extra shifts at St. Mungo's, and he didn't want to bother her if it wasn't absolutely necessary.

A piece of parchment appeared, and a quill was hastily scribbling down all of Potter's injuries; it was nearly a minute before the quill stopped and disappeared, leaving the parchment behind. Snatching the floating page from the air, he began reading.

 **Summarized Health Report For: Harry James Potter**

 **Broken Wrist (Right)**

 **Broken Ankle (Left, Right)**

 **2** **nd** **Degree Burns: Thighs (Left, Right)**

 **Bladder (stretched)**

 **Welts: Back**

 **Body Temperature: 39 Degrees (** **C)**

Yes, Poppy definitely needed to come. While Severus was knowledgeable of basic first aid at best, he wasn't nearly qualified to mend broken bones, nor did he trust himself to try. Setting the paper on the nightstand, he acknowledged Flower who had been quietly watching from the foot of the bed.

"Flower, please watch him for a moment while I fetch Poppy," he requested.

"Of course, Master Severus. Let Flower know if there is anything she can do," the small elf squeaked. Severus left the room and walked down the stairs to the floo; tossing some powder into the hearth, he called her name. He kneeled and stuck his head into the flames, grimacing as his knees creaked; honestly, he wasn't _that_ old!

"Poppy, are you there?" He called into the witch's living room. Moments later, she appeared in her white nurse's uniform holding a small black bag.

"What can I do for you Severus? I'm just about to leave for St. Mungo's at the moment."

"There has been another case of child abuse, and he desperately needs medical attention."

"Say no more, I'll send an owl to the hospital to tell them that I'll be a late today. I'll be over in a couple of minutes." With a curt nod, Severus pulled his head from the floo and walked to his favorite armchair, and waited for her.

Five minutes later she emerged from the floo brushing the dust from her uniform. They climbed the stairs together in a grim silence, and they hesitated a moment before opening the heavy door. Severus heard Poppy gasp when she saw the familiarly tousled brown hair against the white pillow.

"Is that…?" She couldn't seem to find the strength to finish her sentence.

"Yes, it is. I found him locked in a cupboard under the stairs next to a puddle of vomit," he stated quietly. Tears began welling in her eyes before she blinked them away.

"How can someone do that to a child? How did I not realize…" She sighed and set her bag on the edge of the bed. Grabbing the parchment from the table, Severus handed it to her.

"Here is the diagnostic I ran on him just before I went to get you." Poppy quickly read the list and began getting out the supplies she would need. A low hoot was heard from the headboard, Poppy smiled.

"Don't worry, girl, Mr. Potter will be better in no time," she soothed. Severus watched as the mediwitch got to work with an efficiency that rivaled his own. Seeing that there wasn't anything he could do at the moment, Severus summoned his journal and a quill, and began writing what he had seen.

Many years ago, Severus had discovered that writing helped him cope with what was troubling him. This is what helped him get through every Death Eater meeting, and all of the awful things he had to see and do without losing his mind.

* * *

Poppy first inspected Harry's wrist, it was bruised and looked painfully swollen beside him. She cast a spell to mend the bones, and retrieved a bandage from her bag. His wrist would heal, but the spell was slow working and would take about a week to completely recover. Lifting his forearm with a gentleness that only a nurse can achieve, Poppy tightly wrapped the cloth around his wrist and hardened it into a cast. She repeated the process on Harry's ankles, which were bruised even heavier than his wrist. Satisfied with her work, Poppy read the diagnostic again; she had nearly forgotten that he had burns on his legs.

She rolled him over, and was disturbed at how easy it was to move him; he was entirely too light for a twelve year old. The front of his pants were stained and still damp; running her finger along his thigh, she curiously rubbed the oily substance between her index finger and thumb. It was a cooking oil of some sort, or something like it.

She grabbed the scissors that Severus had used, and cut from the bottom of both pant legs up to the waist band. Now that his thighs were exposed, she could see how bad the burns really were. The skin was a bright red, and covered in large blisters that were leaking a clear fluid. Poppy retrieved her burn cream from her bag and began tenderly massaging it into the raw skin.

Poppy couldn't believe that someone could do this to a child, especially one as sweet as Harry. She was never one to hate, but she couldn't help but despise child abusers. Her heart broke when she looked at him, he seemed so small and fragile for his age; the abuse must have been going on for years. What disturbed her the most was that this had all been going on right under her nose. She should have seen the signs! This wasn't the first child from Hogwarts to be abused for Merlin's sake!

* * *

After about an hour of writing Severus looked up to see Poppy beginning to pack her things back into her bag. He set the journal and quill on a table and strode over to the bed beside her.

"How is he?"

"He'll be just fine, I put casts on his ankles and wrist, and applied some burn cream to his thighs. The bones will take about a week or so to completely heal, and the burns should lessen after a few more applications of the cream. He has a considerably high fever, but a few fever reducers should take care of that. As for his bladder, it will simply be weaker than usual for a while, but it isn't anything serious," she said soberly. Severus let out a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding.

"That's good to hear. If you wouldn't mind, can you not tell Albus about this? I would like to do so myself when the time is right."

"Of course, Severus, you know I uphold confidentiality with all of my patients," she reassured. When all of her things were away, Severus walked her to the floo in silence. Just as she was about to floo away, she abruptly turned and hugged him. He stiffened at the sudden embrace, but he relaxed after a few moments.

"Thank you for saving him, Severus. He didn't deserve it, and neither did you," she whispered thickly. He only nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. She released him with a teary smile, and flooed away, leaving him alone.

After reigning his emotions back in, Severus made his way back up to the guestroom where Potter was still sleeping soundly. The boy was still in his now cut clothing, so Severus fetched some of his silk pajamas from his dresser and shrunk them to size. After carefully removing the rags, he dressed the boy and threw the blanket over him.

Potter looked pathetically small in the large bed, dwarfed by the plush pillows behind him. It would have been comical if it weren't for the circumstances that put him here in the first place.

"Flower, would you mind fetching a fever reducer and a dreamless sleep from my stores in the lab?" He asked the elf who had yet to leave the room. Severus would get them himself, but he had the strange need to be in the room with him to make sure he was alright.

"Of course," she replied somberly, the usual giddiness in her voice had vanished without a trace. Hedwig hooted expectantly, reminding Severus that he was forgetting a very important detail.

"Oh, and some food and water for the owl," he added. She returned with a small dish of water, pieces of meat, and the requested vials. Receiving the potions, Severus spelled them into Potter's stomach before he drew up an armchair and sat beside the bed. He had failed Lily and now her only son, he was going to make of for it, he decided, whether he liked it or not.

* * *

AN: And there we have it! Be sure to leave a review, each one is greatly appreciated.


	3. Adjusting

A/N: Yes, yes I know that this is rather late, and I thank you for your patience. I realized a little late that my last author's note made it sound like the story was over, but no there is much more! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

* * *

Chapter 3

Harry slowly opened his eyes, and found himself staring blurrily at a cream colored ceiling; lifting his head from the soft pillows, Harry frowned when he didn't see his glasses on the nightstand. Despite his blurry vision, Harry was still able to make out the contents of the room. There was a small writing desk that sat against the opposite wall, and a large mahogany wardrobe stood next to the four-poster bed that he was currently laying in. To the left of the room there were heavy black curtains that were slightly parted, allowing the rich light to spill onto the dark wooden floors, and the bed. There was an empty armchair that sat unusually close to his bedside, like someone had drawn it nearer so they could keep an eye on him.

Where was he? What happened? This definitely wasn't Privet Drive. Memories from that morning flooded back to him, but he still couldn't remember anything after being locked under the stairs. Harry racked his brain trying to remember what had happened, but there was nothing.

 _This has to be a dream._

One pinch, and a smarting arm later proved that this was, in fact, real. This meant that someone had found him, but who?

No one knew about what happened at the Dursley's, not even Ron or Hermione; the very thought of them finding out sent shame coursing through his body. No, they could never find out; they would probably think it was pathetic that he could face You-Know-Who, but couldn't defend himself against a couple of muggles.

Throughout the year, Harry had worked hard to make sure no one found out about what went on at the Dursley's; he suppressed flinches, showered when no one was in the bathroom, forced himself to eat, and put up a happy front in front of everyone; it was absolutely exhausting. There had been some close calls during the year, like when Ron had accidentally walked in on him changing, or when he had to get a physical exam so he could play quidditch; Harry had gotten away with it then, but now the game was up. Someone knew his secret, and not knowing who it was made his chest tighten with anxiety.

A familiar hoot was heard from the headboard above him, shaking Harry from his thoughts.

"Hedwig?" He croaked. The owl glided down from her perch and landed softly on the bedding beside him. He smiled, happy to see her free from the dirty cage that she had been trapped in for so long; when Harry moved to lift his hand to pet her, he frowned at how heavy his arm felt.

Looking down, he saw a cast around his right wrist; this discovery suddenly made him conscious of the rest of his body. He was clad in black button up pajamas that were silkier than anything he had ever felt. Shifting in the bed, Harry could feel the tightness of bandages on his back, and two more casts around his ankles, but the most peculiar thing was the fact that he wasn't in any pain. He spent the next couple of minutes stroking Hedwig, smiling as she leaned into the touch and closed her eyes contently at the affection.

Suddenly, Harry remembered why he had woken up in the first place, and groaned when his bladder nudged him. This was easily the most comfortable bed that he had ever been in, and Harry did _not_ feel like getting up. After unsuccessfully trying to ignore the pressure in his abdomen for a couple of minutes, he gave in. Using his good arm, Harry propped himself up into a sitting position, and tried to figure out what to do.

He could try to find a bathroom, but thanks to the casts on his ankles Harry dismissed the idea. Harry considered calling for help, but the door was closed and he assumed that whoever had rescued him probably wouldn't appreciate him shouting in their house. Harry squirmed uncomfortably as his bladder continued to ache; he suddenly froze as a small spurt nearly escaped without any warning.

"What the heck?" Harry said out loud as he grabbed himself. He had to go, but he didn't think he had to go that bad. Realizing he didn't have much time, Harry threw the soft blanket off of himself and carefully swung his legs over the edge of the bed, staring at the heavy casts on his ankles. What was he supposed to do now? Maybe he could walk if he was careful; he didn't weigh that much, so they probably wouldn't break, and it wasn't as if Harry had much of a choice at this point anyway. He slowly began getting out of bed, but before his toe could as much as brush the floor Harry heard the door behind him open, and a terrifyingly familiar voice drawled,

"And just what do you think you're doing Mr. Potter? Even I didn't think you were foolish enough to try to walk with casts on, but evidently I was mistaken." Harry's heart leapt into his throat when he heard his professor's voice.

"Well? Don't you have anything to say for yourself? Why on earth were you trying to get out of bed?" Snape snapped when he had yet to respond.

Still trying to recover from his shock, Harry couldn't find the courage to reply, and looked down at his lap, feeling extremely embarrassed. He couldn't tell him what was wrong, Snape would probably laugh at him, or get mad like his aunt and uncle always did.

"I'm waiting, Mr. Potter" he said sternly, annoyance seeping into his tone.

"I was going to look for the bathroom, sir." Harry said meekly as he continued to fidget with the hem of his shirt.

"That isn't very surprising, as it is nearly five o'clock. I'm assuming that it's urgent?" Harry nodded frantically as his bladder continued to pulse.

"Then let's get you there, shall we?" The man walked around the bed to where Harry was sitting, and reached for the child, but before Severus had the chance to touch him he flinched away. He took a deep breath; this was going to be a bit more difficult than he had originally thought.

"I was just going to help you to the loo, Mr. Potter," he said softly.

"Actually, I don't think I have to go anymore. Sorry for disturbing you, sir," the boy stated before unsuccessfully trying to get back under the covers.

"Nonsense, did you not just tell me it was urgent? Besides, you've been under the effects of a dreamless sleep potion for nearly seven hours, and Madame Pomfrey already made it clear to me that your bladder would be weaker than usual. It's a miracle you haven't disgraced yourself already; many patients have not been so lucky," Severus stated with a smirk. Potter, who had yet to looked at him, only muttered,

"I'm sorry, sir." Severus waved the apology away.

"Enough with the apologies, you have nothing to be sorry for. Now, I'm going to pick you up okay?" The child seemingly realized that this was his only option, and reluctantly allowed himself to be picked up. Severus inwardly cursed Potter's relations as he lifted him, the boy was far too light for someone his age. Suddenly, he felt the child begin to squirm in his arms, and he pleaded,

"Please hurry, sir." Severus needed no further convincing; he walked quickly out of the room, but not too fast, the last thing he wanted to do was jostle him. Moments later, he arrived at the small loo, and helped Potter get situated before he left and shut the door; Severus wanted to keep at least some of their dignities intact.

It wasn't long before he was finished, and Severus carried him back to the guest room, and helped him get back under the blankets.

"I'm not a baby, you know," he murmured as Severus smoothed the wrinkles from the comforter. The dour man rose an eyebrow at that.

"I am well aware of that, Mr. Potter, but you are unable to walk, and require assistance. Unless you would have preferred me to leave you to try to get to the bathroom yourself." Harry shook his head, the man had a point; he just wished it hadn't been so mortifying. The man sat down in the armchair beside Harry's bed, and asked,

"Do you think you could stomach some food? I imagine that it's been quite a while since you ate last." Now that Harry thought about it, he did feel pretty hungry; the last thing he had eaten was a piece of toast Aunt Petunia had let him have yesterday because the bread had gone stale.

"Yes, sir," he answered with a small nod.

"Flower?" Snape called, a moment later she appeared.

"Yes, Master Severus? How can Flower be of service?" She asked politely. Harry stared at the house elf curiously, she looked just like Dobby except she was of a slightly smaller stature, her ears were a bit longer, and her eyes were a dark green. She seemed nice, to Harry's relief; his last experience with a house elf hadn't exactly been pleasant. After Dobby dropped his aunt's dessert on one of their guests, Harry had been punished so awfully he didn't even want to think about it.

"Can you bring some dinner for Mr. Potter? Don't make it too rich, I don't need a sick child on my hands," Snape said with a pointed look to Harry. The small house elf nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course, of course, Master Severus. It will only take a moment!" Snape rolled his eyes at the elf's antics and thanked her before she popped away. Harry barely managed to stop himself from giggling, it was amusing to see his most morose professor try to tolerate a hyperactive house elf. All urges to laugh, however, left when Snape turned his attention back to him.

"So, Mr. Potter, I'm sure your infamous Gryffindor curiosity is burning to know why you're in my home," he drawled.

"Yes, sir."

"Last night, the headmaster informed me that there had been some suspicious activity near your relative's home, so he requested for you to reside here until term begins." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when Snape rose a hand to silence him.

"Believe me when I say that this is not favorable for me either, but it is something that must be… tolerated," he finished after a slight pause. Anger suddenly seized Harry.

"What about the blood wards? Aren't those supposed to keep Voldemort and his stupid followers out? I was just fine before, and I didn't need you to come get me!" He nearly shouted, those blood wards were the only reason why he went back to Privet Drive. Dumbledore had made him go back to that house, despite Harry's tearful pleas because those _blood wards_ supposedly guaranteed his safety, and now they weren't enough? Anger was replaced with fear when Snape's eyes narrowed, and his voice lowered,

"Do not use his name in my presence, and I suggest you watch your attitude, Mr. Potter. And you say you were fine? If you call being beaten and locked under the stairs 'fine,' then you need to look up the definition of the word." Harry felt his face pale, how could he bring that up? What right did he have to know about it at all, let alone throw it in his face! He was about to angrily retort, but he was interrupted by a sudden cracking noise.

It was at that moment when Flower reappeared, balancing a small tray in her hands. It was laden with baked chicken, green beans, and some mashed potatoes; it looked delicious, but Harry didn't want it anymore. The small elf carefully walked over to the bed and placed the food on Harry's lap. He nearly spit out a scathing remark to the elf, but he stopped himself; it wasn't her fault that he was upset, and the last thing he wanted to do was make the fragile creature cry. Instead he gave her a small smile and said,

"Thank you, Flower, it looks great."

"You're welcome, young master. It was Flower's pleasure," she beamed before happily popping away. Harry looked down at the food he no longer had an appetite for, and sighed.

"What's wrong, Potter? No dessert?" Snape said tauntingly as he retrieved a journal from his robes, and opened it. Harry said nothing, he didn't have the energy to argue anymore, and he picked up his fork and forced himself to eat. He was sure that it tasted delicious, but now it turned to ash in his mouth. Harry had hardly eaten a couple of bites of chicken when his stomach started churning, but he made himself eat; he didn't need Snape anymore angry with him. His first bite of mashed potatoes proved to be his undoing; as soon as he swallowed it his stomach lurched. Harry dropped his fork on the tray and put his hand over his mouth.

Hearing the sudden clang, Severus looked up from his journal to see Potter looking absolutely green. He jumped up, grabbed the small trashcan beside the nightstand, and rushed over to put the bin in front of him. It wasn't a moment too late, as soon as the can was in front of him, the boy started to gag. Severus saw tears streaming down Potter's face as he vomited, and he began rubbing his back with his free hand before he realized what he was doing. The boy retched a few more times before he was finished, and was breathing shakily. Severus banished the mess from the bin and set it on the floor next to the bed; he summoned a cold washcloth and let Potter wipe his mouth before he banished it as well.

"Better?" He asked gently. Potter nodded, and said tearfully,

"I'm really sorry, sir."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Why didn't you tell me you were feeling ill?" Severus asked, though he knew why. What child would ask him for help after he had belittled them? Shame suddenly ran through him, and he tried to push it away, not liking the feeling at all. The boy shrugged, and looked down at the food he had hardly touched. Severus took the tray, and sent it to the kitchen where he knew Flower would take care of it, before he touched the back of his hand to Potter's forehead. Potter flinched at the touch, but Severus ignored it. He frowned when he felt a fever, the fever reducers should have taken care of that, though Poppy did say he may need another one.

"It looks like your fever has returned, you're going to need to take some potions to take care of that." He nodded, and Severus summoned the vials from his stores in the lab, and handed them to the child.

"That one there is the fever reducer, that's a stomach soother, and the last one is another dreamless sleep, if you need it," Severus told him as he uncorked the vials. Potter drank the fever reducer and stomach soother without complaint, though he did grimace quite a bit.

"I don't need the dreamless sleep, Pr'fessor. I'm pretty tired," he murmured as he handed the potion back to him.

"That's fine, it is better not to take it if you don't need it, as it can become addicting. I'll leave it on the nightstand in case you want it. I have some potions to brew, so I'll be downstairs; if you need me call for Flower and she will fetch me for you." The boy nodded sleepily, and Severus turned to leave, but before he could shut the door behind him, a small voice said,

"I'm sorry for yelling earlier." Severus resisted the urge to smirk, Potter sounded terrified; he had obviously been working up the courage to say so.

Severus didn't reply, and shut the door before making his way down to his lab. Though he did not show it, he was surprised that Potter had apologized at all; it was very unlike him.

 _Or maybe it was completely like him, and I've been too stubborn to see it._

Severus growled to himself as the thought flicked through his mind. No, Potter was the same student who disrespected him in class, and the son of his greatest enemy, nothing more. He had had the nerve to shout at him in his own house, and if that wasn't proof Severus didn't know what was.

 _But he apologized…_

That didn't make a bit of difference, he was still an arrogant, and inconsiderate student who didn't care for anyone but himself.

Severus sighed as he opened the door to his lab, the more he tried to convince himself that Potter was a replica of his father the more he realized how unlikely it was. He had seen the fear in Potter's eyes after he had been sick, and how panicked he had been to ask for help to go to the loo; all telltale signs of abuse. What Severus didn't understand was why there hadn't been any signs of abuse while Potter was at Hogwarts. Severus shook his head at that, all of the signs were there, but he had been so blinded by hate he had chosen not to see any of them. Strangely enough, however, none of his other colleagues had reported any strange behavior from Potter, so perhaps he was just really good at hiding it. Merlin knew Severus had been.

Oh how wrong he had been; Lily was probably rolling in her grave, no she was probably trying to dig herself up so she could strangle him herself.

Severus was snapped out of his thoughts when the potion he was working on began to boil over and spill onto the countertop. He growled to himself when he saw that he had left the flame turned up too high; that was a foolish mistake, and he was not one to make mistakes. After three more failed potions, Severus gave up on brewing for the night; his thoughts obviously didn't plan on leaving him alone anytime soon.

After cleaning his lab from the disastrous attempts at brewing, Severus went back upstairs and had Flower make him some dinner before he turned in for the night. Finishing his food, Severus suppressed a yawn and tiredly climbed the stairs towards his room; today had been emotionally exhausting to say the least. As he neared his own door, he stopped and gazed at the door across the hall, debating whether or not to check on Potter.

Severus shook his head, the boy was probably asleep. However, he was technically responsible for Potter's wellbeing, so if he did check on him then it was purely professional, not because he was concerned or anything. Of course not.

Slowly opening the door, Severus could make out Potter's small sleeping form in the large bed. Seeing everything was in order, he closed the door again before retiring to his own room for a much needed night's rest.

* * *

If Severus had thought that he was going to sleep soundly that night, he was sorely mistaken. At about one o'clock in the morning, a bone chilling scream pierced the air, waking Severus and sending his heart racing. He quickly got out of bed and rushed to Potter's room with his wand at the ready; when he opened the door he was relieved to see there wasn't an intruder. Instead, Potter was obviously having a nightmare, and whatever it was about it must have been terrifying if the thrashing form in the bed was anything to go by. The child was drenched in sweat, and was hopelessly tangled in the covers as he struggled; Severus gently began shaking his shoulder in an attempt to wake him up.

"Potter, wake up, it's just a dream. Wake up." It took a couple of tries, but eventually the boy slowly opened his eyes.

Just when Severus thought the worst of it was over, Potter had the audacity to launch himself at the man and begin sobbing into the front of his pajamas. He was surprised to say the least, and stiffened at the sudden embrace, but he found that he didn't have the heart to push him away; Severus knew that that could do more damage to the boy than good at this point. Instead, he awkwardly began rubbing small circles into the child's back, and whispering soothing words in the boy's ear.

"Shh, it's alright. You're safe, you're in Prince Manor. It's over now. Please stop crying," he said softly.

After a few minutes, the boy's cries soon died down to sniffles, and he soon realized Potter had fallen back to sleep. Carefully freeing himself from his grasp, Severus covered the boy with the blankets, and cast a simple drying spell on Potter's clothes and his own to dry the tears from the fabric. For the record, Severus was not tucking the boy in, he was simply making sure that he didn't become chilled.

Severus was awoken two more times by screaming, and it hadn't been pleasant. After he had been cried on for the third time that night, Severus grabbed the dreamless sleep potion from the nightstand, and spelled it into the boy's stomach; it was the only way either of them were going to get any sleep.

* * *

Harry woke up feeling as though he hadn't gone to sleep at all; his eyes hurt and he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. Rolling over, Harry tried to nod off; he nearly succeeded until he vaguely remembered the nightmares he had had the previous night, and crying into someone's arms.

Harry felt his face flush in embarrassment as he realized there was only one person in the house that that could have been. But it couldn't have been Snape, he would have just pushed Harry away and yelled at him for waking him up like his uncle always did. Maybe someone had broken into the house, but Harry snorted at that; Snape probably had enough wards around this place to keep Voldemort himself out. Then if it had been him, why did he let Harry cry into the front of his pajamas?

 _He was probably half asleep._

Harry snickered, that must have been it; Snape would have never comforted Harry in his right mind.

That last thought made Harry feel a little sad, it had been nice to cry on someone else's shoulder, but it didn't mean anything. It was fake, and Snape was probably waiting for the opportune moment to make fun of him for it.

Before Harry could think about it for much longer, Snape entered his room looking how Harry felt. He was wearing black trousers, a dark grey button up shirt and his hair sat loosely, as usual, but the bags under his eyes betrayed that he was obviously tired.

"How did you sleep, sir?" Harry asked politely, he imagined it wasn't very well.

"As well as you did, I suppose," he said dryly. Harry blushed, he hadn't meant to wake him up.

"I'm sorry I woke you up before, I should have just taken the dreamless sleep," he said quietly as the man sat in the armchair that had yet to leave his bedside. Snape shook his head,

"No, your nightmares are signs that there are things bothering you. Taking the dreamless sleep may have prevented you from having nightmares last night, but what about the next night, and the one after that?"

"I could just take one before bed every night, so I won't wake you up," he suggested nervously. He felt disappointed when the man shook his head again.

"Dreamless sleep potions are not meant to be a permanent solution; like I said before they can become addictive, and it would not be healthy for you to suppress your nightmares. And as for waking me up, I have been through much worse than missing a little sleep." Harry nodded, feeling better at the fact that Snape wasn't mad at him; at least he understood that it wasn't his fault, it's not like he wanted to have nightmares.

"How are you feeling today? Do you think you can eat some oatmeal?" Harry wrinkled his nose at the mention of oatmeal, every time he had it at the Dursley's it was not unlike eating glue. He had seen it at Hogwarts during breakfast, but he always avoided it.

"I can assure you whatever oatmeal you've had with your relatives is nothing compared to what Flower makes."

"Okay, then I'll try some." After Snape called Flower and ordered breakfast for both of them, he turned back to him.

"You still haven't answered my first question."

"Sir?" Harry asked, feeling a little confused.

"I asked you have you were feeling today."

"Oh, um, I feel a bit better, but I'm still pretty tired."

"I'd assume so, you look like you were hit by a broom," the man said with a smirk.

"Hey! You look tired too, look at the bags under your eyes!" Harry laughed. Suddenly, his eyes went wide as he remembered who he was talking to, and he put a hand over his mouth. Great, he screwed up again; Snape was probably livid. Why did he always have to mess things up?

"Sir- sir I'm so sorry- I-I didn't mean-" Suddenly, it was getting harder to breathe and he couldn't stop shaking; Harry knew he was panicking, but he didn't know how to stop it. Snape quickly got up, and Harry closed his eyes tight; oh he was going to get it now. Instead of a smack, he felt a firm hand grasp his shoulder.

"Potter, calm down. Focus on your breathing. In. Out. Good. In. Out. In. Out." Slowly, it became a little easier to get air, and his chest didn't feel as tight. When he was finally able to calm down, Snape sat back down and chuckled. That surprised Harry enough; Snape had actually _laughed._

"I wasn't angry with you, Mr. Potter. In fact, you probably have a point, though I wouldn't recommend commenting on my appearance in the future. As for me being tired, whose fault do you think that is?" He asked with a pointed look. Harry smiled, yeah, that pretty much was his fault.

"Sorry, sir," Harry said with a grin. Snape waved the apology away, and moments later Flower appeared with their breakfast. Once everyone was situated, she popped away. Harry looked down at the oatmeal, it did look good; it was golden brown and had some blueberries on top. He tried a small spoonful, and was pleasantly surprised; it was warm, sweet, and tasted of brown sugar; the fresh berries made it all the better.

By the time he had eaten half of it, Harry was feeling rather full, but he didn't want to waste any of Snape's food. As though he had read his mind, Severus told him,

"If you're full, do not force yourself to eat or you'll make yourself sick. We don't want another incident like last night do we?" Harry felt his face flush, why did he have to keep bringing up embarrassing stuff?

"Mr. Potter, I was not making fun of you, I was merely stating a fact. I'm assuming you didn't eat enough with your muggle relations, so it will take time for your body to adjust. Oh, stop looking at me like that, I could tell what you were thinking because of the look on your face." Harry huffed, why did the man always have to be right? Placing the spoon into the bowl, Harry shyly tried to ask Snape something that had been on his mind since he got there.

"Um, sir? Well, um you don't suppose-"

"Ask your question, Potter, and try not to hurt yourself." Rolling his eyes at the man's sarcasm, he continued,

"Well, sir, where are my things? I couldn't find my glasses before, and I can't really see that well." Placing his now empty plate on the nightstand, Severus answered,

"Your belongings are currently in the Dursley residence; I didn't have time to grab them, but I planned on doing so after breakfast." Harry felt his stomach drop, if Snape had left all of his belongings at the house, then they had probably been thrown away or ruined by now.

"I locked your door so they couldn't get in, so your possessions are safe," Snape reassured with a smirk, earning him a scowl from Harry. He hated how Snape always seemed to know what he was thinking, it was like he could see right through him.

"Thanks." Ignoring the appreciation, Snape stood and banished their plates.

"I shouldn't be gone for very long, if you need anything call Flower, and she will assist you," he told Harry as he was getting ready to leave.

"What am I supposed to do while you're gone?" he asked.

"Rest, your body needs to recover," the man replied.

"But that's _boring_ ," Harry nearly whined.

"Then you're doing it right," he answered. Snape walked out of the room, but before he could shut the door behind him, Harry suddenly remembered something.

"Sir, wait!" The man stopped and turned around, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Could you, uh, help me to the loo before you go?" Harry asked, feeling his face burn with embarrassment.

"Of course, thank you for telling me. I'm not sure if Flower would have been able to help you with that." When the man came near, Harry allowed him to loop one arm under his legs, and the other behind his back. This was embarrassing, but it wasn't as bad as it had been before; at least he wasn't about to wet himself this time.

A couple of minutes later, Harry was back in bed feeling much better.

"Now, before I leave, is there anything else you need?" Snape asked him not unkindly.

"Could you open the curtains?" Snape merely nodded before sliding the heavy drapes apart, and opening the window slightly, allowing a pleasant breeze into the room.

"Some fresh air will do you good," he said simply when Harry gave him a questioning look. Harry nodded, as he looked out the window. Though he couldn't see anything near the window from the bed, Harry could see a lot of lush trees father away from the manor. He couldn't wait to be rid of the casts around his ankles so he could explore the grounds, if Snape would let him, maybe he would be able to fly too. Harry frowned, that might take a bit more convincing than he had originally thought.

When he looked away from the view to thank the man, Harry saw that he had already gone.

* * *

Severus landed in Arabella's home with ease, and found her sitting at the small table in her kitchen. Hearing the floo flare, she hurriedly stood and came into the living room.

"Severus, what brings you by today?" The woman asked him.

"I've come to collect Potter's belongings from the Dursley household; I didn't have time to do so yesterday."

"I wouldn't doubt it, you ran out of here so fast I didn't get a chance to say goodbye," Arabella chuckled lightheartedly, "Would you like a cup of tea before you go? You look dreadful, dear," she offered kindly. Severus didn't even try to deny it, instead he took a seat in one of the armchairs.

"Yes please; Merlin knows I need it." Arabella nodded and slowly walked to the kitchen to retrieve some cups; a few moments later she was back with two steaming teacups.

"I already had some made, so I hope you like chamomile," Arabella said as she handed him his own cup, and sat in the armchair across from him.

"You know I do, Bella," he replied with a small smile. Though he would never admit it, Severus enjoyed the small woman's company. She was like a mother to him, and she had helped him out of more dark times than he could care to remember.

"How is he?" She asked, Severus knew she had been burning to ask the question since he had arrived.

"Physically speaking, he will make a full recovery; Potter had a few broken bones, blisters, and welts, but it wasn't anything that Poppy couldn't fix. As far as his mental and emotional health, I just don't know." Arabella gasped,

"They _broke bones_?" Severus nodded soberly,

"Both of his ankles, and his right wrist were fractured, but they should be fine in a couple of days."

"How could someone do that to a child?" Severus shook his head.

"I don't know, and I never want to." They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their tea.

"This would have never happened if Albus had taken my letters more seriously," She spat angrily. Severus snapped his head up, Albus _knew?_

"What letters?" He asked with a sense of dread pooling in his stomach.

"Whenever his relatives left town, or simply didn't want him around, they would leave him with me. Now, of course I never minded because Harry is such a sweet child, but I would notice things. He would have bruises, cuts, and scrapes, and I originally had thought that they were just the usual injuries a child would get from roughhousing, but one day I noticed something odd." Severus motioned for her to continue.

"Well, when he was about seven or eight Harry had been playing outside after it rained, and he got muddy. So I let him have a bath, and just as I was shutting the door, he took his shirt off, and I saw his back. It was littered with bruises, much more than any little boy should have." Arabella paused, and shut her eyes as if it hurt to recall the memory; she sighed and opened them again before she continued,

"That night I wrote Albus about it, and the next morning I got a letter back assuring me that everything was fine, and that I was overreacting. Over the years I kept writing him, and I kept getting the same response, _'Arabella, dear, you're worrying yourself for nothing.'_ It was a load of rubbish if you ask me." Severus didn't know how to respond, did Albus not believe her or did he not care? Seeing the concern on his face, Arabella asked,

"How are you faring, Severus? You look a little worse for wear," she said, worry touching her words.

"The boy had three nightmares last night, all of to which he woke me up screaming; I don't think I'm cut out for this," he admitted wearily, running his free hand through his hair.

"And what makes you think that?"

"When he woke up, Potter started crying into the front of my nightwear; I didn't know what to do, I just sat there." Arabella smiled softly and patted his knee.

"Sometimes, that's all a person needs, someone who will listen or simply 'just sit there,' like you said. Growing up in that household, I would bet money that Harry never had that; I'm assuming he calmed down after you were there?"

"I would say so, he fell asleep attached to me like a grindylow."

"See? You don't give yourself enough credit, Severus. I had never been able to get him to calm down nearly as quickly when he stayed here."

"But I'm too harsh, he was too afraid to tell me he was feeling sick because I had been rather callous with him," he admitted, feeling ashamed at the memory.

"Those things will happen, Severus. Believe me when I say nothing is perfect about taking care of a child, it will get better with time," she reassured gently. They sat, again, in silence finishing their now lukewarm drinks. Placing the cup in the saucer, Severus stood a bit too slowly for his liking,

"Thank you for the tea, Bella, but I must be going. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to speak some more about this later."

"Of course, Severus, I understand." After saying goodbye to the woman, Severus turned to leave, placing a notice-me-not charm on himself as his walked. Opening the door, he squinted as the bright light assaulted his eyes, and began making his way to the Dursley's home. As the house came into view, Severus saw that both cars were absent from the driveway. He shrugged, them not being home would only make his job easier.

Placing his hand on the doorknob, he wordlessly unlocked the front door and opened it with a small creak. Shutting the door behind him, Severus strode to the small cupboard and chuckled humorlessly when he saw the face of the cupboard. There were scratches and marks all over the front, and the edges were cracked and lifted slightly as if someone had tried to pry the door open with a crowbar. Their efforts had obviously been futile, because when he unlocked the cupboard Severus saw that nothing had been changed, not even the now dried puddle of vomit.

Severus wrinkled his nose, the smell hadn't changed either. He rummaged through the small space as quickly as he could, wanting to be rid of the offending odor; he didn't find very much. Under the small mattress he found some broken ends of muggle crayons, and a few toy soldiers that were missing limbs here and there; he pocketed both and shut and relocked the cupboard. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of ever being able to open the door again.

Severus stood and made his way to the stairs; when he got to the door, Severus saw the same marks, and dents in the wood. Unlocking the door, he was again pleased to see that nothing had been altered in the room; Potter's trunk lay open at the foot of the rickety bed, and many of his belongings were strewn across the floor. Picking up the trunk, and laying it on the bed, Severus carefully refolded the robes and placed them back into the trunk; sure, he could use magic to do this, but he wanted to be thorough, and not miss anything.

One by one, Severus picked up the quills, inkwells, and textbooks up off of the floor, and packed them away. Opening the small wardrobe, Severus was disgusted at what he saw; there were a few pairs of jeans, and shirts that hung in front of him, but there were much too big for Potter.

 _They must have belonged to that beast of a cousin._

What was worse, they were riddled with so many stains and tears that they resembled rags more than actual clothing. At the bottom of the wardrobe, he found a pair of trainers, but they weren't much better than the clothes above them. Scowling, Severus shut the door, leaving the old clothing where it hanged; Potter could borrow his own clothing until they were able to make a trip to Diagon Alley.

He sighed, and turned to grab the cage for Potter's owl; he couldn't have her sitting on that headboard forever. Banishing the filth from the cage, Severus shrunk it and deposited it into Potter's trunk, before he reduce the trunk in size as well, and slipped it into his pocket. He turned to leave, but as Severus did so he felt a floorboard rock slightly beneath his right foot.

Kneeling in front of the board, Severus carefully pried it open. There, he saw Potter's wand, some old Honeydukes chocolates, and stale crackers wrapped in a napkin. Severus swore loudly, he had been right, those rotten muggles weren't feeding him enough. If they had been, then why would Potter have kept a stash of food under the floorboards? Pocketing the wand, Severus turned to see something under the small bed; he scooted closer to the bed to see what it was. As Severus got nearer, he saw that it was Potter's broom, and a book that had been hiding in the shadows.

He retrieved them both, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw that the book was actually a photo album; on the cover, there was a picture of Lily holding Potter as a baby. She was smiling, and bouncing him as he laughed. Though he knew she wasn't really there, Severus allowed a small smile to grace his lips when the moving photo version of her looked at him, and grinned.

Before allowing himself to become too emotional, Severus pocketed the broom and album after shrinking them down. He got up, and brushed the dust that had settled on his clothing off; after a last scan of the room, Severus left and locked the door behind him.

Standing at the top of the staircase, Severus frowned as he realized he hadn't seen Potter's glasses anywhere. He drew his wand and tried summoning them, but they didn't appear. After a few moments, he heard a small knocking sound coming from the door down the hall. Following the noise, he opened the door, and saw that he was in Petunia and Vernon's bedroom.

The room, like the rest of the house, was spotless. Severus could easily trash the room, but he resisted the temptation; he had much better ways of getting revenge, he was a Slytherin after all. Making a mental note to figure that out later, Severus walked to the small nightstand that was shaking with each thump that came from the drawer. He opened it, and Potter's glasses flew into his hand; they were destroyed. The metal frames were crushed, as though it had been stepped on, and only small pieces of glass remained, the bridge of the glasses was held together with tape, and the ear pieces were bent out of shape.

He felt so angry that his hands trembled as he inspected the glasses; those vermin had kept the glasses as a _trophy._ Severus took a deep breath, and point his wand at the ruined glasses.

" _Oculus Reparo._ " The glasses slowly bent back into their original shape, and pieces of glass flew from the drawer and righted themselves in the frames. This would do for now, but the spell wouldn't suffice permanently; they would definitely be making a trip to Diagon Alley soon.

Fuming, Severus left the house and briskly walked back to Arabella's. When he got there, Severus found that she wasn't in the sitting room or the kitchen, so he flooed away without another word.

He landed in the manor, and made his way up to the guest room, cursing the incredible amount of stairs he had to climb to get there. When Severus opened the door, he found Potter sleeping peacefully in the large bed. Not wanting to wake him, Severus quietly returned all of Potter's things to their original size, and set them on the floor at the foot of his bed.

Deciding that Potter had the right idea, Severus made his way to his own bedroom; a nap didn't seem like such a bad idea after all.


	4. The Burn Salve

A/N: Yes, yes, I know it has been much too long. Thank you all for your patience, and don't forget to hit that beautiful review button :)

* * *

Chapter 4

The rest of the day was rather uneventful for the two residents at Prince Manor; Harry spent most of his time in bed, bored, unable to do much else with the casts on his legs and arm. He tried to keep himself occupied, but Harry found it rather difficult; he didn't have much to entertain himself with.

There was the photo album that Hagrid had given him, and while it never ceased to amaze him how the photos moved, he still found himself bored after a while. Hedwig was a nice distraction; she would sometimes sit beside him on the bed and allow him to stroke her feathers, but the owl spent most of the afternoon off hunting, leaving Harry trapped while she flew away free. The only books he had were the textbooks from last year, but there was no way he was going to read those; he wasn't Hermione after all.

"But I'm bored," Potter muttered when Severus told him to rest; Severus rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Why couldn't children enjoy silence for once?

"Your body has been through… a great deal," he paused, trying to word it carefully, "and you need to give it time to recover." The boy crossed his arms and huffed, or rather he tried to, the heavy cast making his movement clumsy.

"This sucks," he grumped. Severus allowed himself to smile slightly, walking out and shutting the door behind him, before making his way to the attic.

* * *

Harry sighed as he leaned against the headboard, what part of bored did Snape not get? What was he supposed to do, stare at the ceiling? Restless, he kicked the thin sheet off of himself, and pushed it to the foot of the bed next to the thick blanket that had been bunched up there previously, and looked outside. In the distance he could see the tops of trees swaying gently in the warm breeze that eventually made its way into the bedroom; though he would never admit it, Harry was grateful that Snape had left the window open. He absolutely hated stuffy spaces, it reminded him too much of his cupboard and the long miserable summers he had spent there; the very thought of it made him feel claustrophobic.

Harry sat there, still in the silk pajamas that Snape had given him the day before, and shifted, trying to get comfortable against the wood headboard. He wondered if Snape would let him take a shower, but he quickly dismissed that idea when he realized that he would probably need help. No thanks, Snape seeing him naked was definitely not worth it.

 _He probably wouldn't want to help anyway, it'd just be a bother._

The more that Harry thought about it, however, the more that he realized that Snape probably _would_ help, even if he didn't want to. But why? Why even care about a freak like him? The only reason why he was here was because Dumbledore made Snape take him in to begin with, not because Snape wanted him here.

That last thought made tears prick his eyes before he blinked them away hurriedly; what was wrong with him? Why did he always have to be a burden wherever he went? When a stray tear managed to escape, Harry scrubbed it away angrily with the back of his left hand, and looked out the window again, desperate for some kind of distraction.

* * *

Severus opened the narrow door at the end of the hall to reveal an equally narrow staircase, before climbing the creaky steps. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone up to the attic, as he generally disliked them; attics were where old memories went to be boxed up, and forgotten. When he got to the top of the stairs, Severus had to stoop slightly under the slanted ceiling as he searched for the box he was looking for.

It wasn't as easy as Severus had thought it was going to be, his mother had loved to collect things, and now all of those "things" were packed in boxes that filled most of the cramped space. Severus wasn't entirely sure what was in all of the boxes, but he could never bring himself to open them; they held too many painful memories that he would rather keep inside the dusty cardboard, thank you very much.

Severus flipped a switch on the wall, and some of the lights flickered to life; others simply stayed dead, leaving random dark areas throughout the attic. He walked to the first stack of boxes and tried to read the faded writing that had been scrawled on the side; it was difficult, but he managed it well enough. After about fifteen minutes of searching through the seemingly endless stacks of boxes, Severus found the one he was looking for, and he carefully slid it from the top of a stack, disrupting the dust that had settled there as he did. He gingerly carried the medium sized box towards the stairs, flipping off the lights as he went and began his descent.

He took a refreshing breath when he made it to the hallway, the attic had been much too stuffy for his liking. Opening the door to his bedroom, Severus set the box onto his bed and unfolded the cardboard flaps to reveal what he had been looking for. He was greeted with the spines of several books, slightly faded with age and a bit dusty, but otherwise in a relatively good condition. With long fingers, Severus plucked a familiar green book from its place, and wiped some of the dust off with his hand. This book was significantly more worn than the others, the paperback cover was creased in some places, and many pages had been dog-eared and torn at the edges. The potions master smiled fondly at the book, it had been one of his favorite novels growing up; Lily had given it to him for his tenth birthday.

Severus picked a few other titles that he thought Potter would enjoy, and put them in a short stack, after dusting them off a bit first. He didn't really know why he was getting these books for the boy anyway; he would probably scoff at the idea of reading for entertainment, but it was the least he could do. Severus was not cruel enough to leave a child to die of boredom in the guest room all summer, even if it was Potter.

With books in hand, Severus strode across the hall and used his free hand to turn the doorknob, and open the door. The child was sitting against the headboard, staring out of the window; he made no move to acknowledge Severus was there at all.

"Potter," he said, trying to get his attention. The boy jumped slightly, evidently startled out of whatever thoughts he had been lost in, and turned his head.

"Yes, sir?" Potter answered, his eyes were red as if he had been crying, and his nose was running slightly. The boy obviously noticed the fact as well, because he gripped the edge of his sleeve and brought it up to his face.

"Stop right there, Mr. Potter," Severus said sternly as he reach into one of his pockets and retrieved a handkerchief. The boy's arm froze inches from his face.

"What?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"Do not _wipe_ your nose on your sleeve, that's disgusting," Severus admonished as he handed the child the dark green cloth.

"Oh, sorry," he apologized, wiping his nose before handing it back. Banishing the used handkerchief, Severus asked,

"Everything alright?" He tried to sound indifferent, but Severus couldn't help the bit of concern that slipped through.

"Yeah, it's nothing." He nodded slightly, understanding that the boy obviously did not want to discuss it.

"Hey, what are those?" The boy asked, suddenly seeing the stack of books in the professor's hands.

"These are known as books. I'm sure you saw plenty of them last year. However, as far as opening them, I would not be so sure," the man teased with a smirk. Rolling his eyes at the sarcasm, Harry asked,

"Could I read some of them, sir?"

"That is actually why I brought them here. Can't have you dying of boredom can we?"

"Thank you, sir!"

"You're welcome, now the only thing I ask is that you take care of them; these are the same books I read when I was your age, and they're rather special to me," he warned.

"I will, I promise!" Harry said eagerly as Snape walked around the bed to the nightstand, and set the stack down.

"Now, I have some work to do down in my lab; I will be back in a couple of hours for dinner. If you need anything, simply send Flower to fetch me," he said curtly as he headed for the door.

"Professor Snape?" Harry called, his voice soft. The man stopped and turned around,

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"Didn't you say that already?" Snape asked, with an eyebrow raised and amusement in his voice.

"Well, um yes, but I meant for everything. Thank you for taking care of me, even when you didn't want to," Harry finished quietly, the buttons on his pajama top suddenly becoming interesting.

"You're welcome… and I never did anything that I didn't want to," the man finished, before leaving and shutting the door.

Harry smiled to himself, tears pricking his eyes for the second time that day, but this time it was for an entirely different reason. Blinking the moisture away, Harry leaned over and gingerly picked up the first book on the stack. It was a green paperback with a young, smiling girl standing in front of a large farm house on the cover. She was wearing a sun hat, and her red hair was braided into two pigtails that rested on her shoulders; she was clutching a blue book to her chest. _Anne of Green Gables_ was printed in loopy writing across the top. She reminded him of Hermione in a way.

He delicately thumbed through the yellowed pages, watching the words fly by in a blur as the pages flicked past. Harry loved to read, but he never really got the chance at the Dursley's; Dudley absolutely hated anything that had to do with school, especially books. In primary school, he often spent free time in the classroom in the corner with the two short bookshelves that stood against the wall, sitting on a beanbag chair, and reading to his small heart's content. He couldn't believe Snape had given him books to read, let alone some of his own favorites from when he was a kid.

Harry pulled the covers back up, and readjusted his pillows before laying back on them, trying to get comfortable as he opened the faded cover.

 _Mrs. Rachel Lynde lived just where the Avonlea main road dipped down into a little hollow…_

* * *

That was how Severus found him a couple of hours later, snuggled up in the blankets and engrossed in the familiar green book; in fact, the boy didn't seem to notice that Severus had appeared at all. He smirked to himself as he shouldered the door the rest of the way open, carrying the metal tray that held their dinner; who knew the boy was a bookworm? Only when Severus walked around the foot of the bed, and put the tray down did Harry realize that he was there.

"Oh, hi, sir," he said pleasantly, closing the book and placing it on the bed beside him.

"I take it you're enjoying the book?"

"Very much, I can't believe the orphanage sent them a girl instead of a boy. How do you mess that up?" Harry asked, nearly laughing.

"You would be very surprised at the mistakes people can make, take my classroom for instance. I take my eyes off of one of you for a moment, and someone's lost their eyebrows," Severus said with a pointed look.

"Hey! We're not _that_ bad," he laughed. Severus only raised an eyebrow in response, "Okay, maybe we are," he relented with a grin.

Severus lifted his own bowl from the nightstand, and handed the tray to Harry before settling into the armchair that had yet to leave his bedside.

Harry's mouth watered as he looked down at the tray; there was a white ceramic bowl full of spaghetti, and a glass of milk, his favorite. Picking up his fork, Harry dug in, spinning the fork to wrap the long noodles around it before putting it in his mouth. Slurping a stray noodle, the end of it flicked a bit of sauce on his cheek, but Harry didn't notice; this was one of the best meals he had had in a long time.

"Potter, slow down before you choke," Severus said curtly, causing the boy's cheeks to redden slightly.

"Sorry, sir." The boy slowed down, but he still ate a little too enthusiastically for his liking, only stopping to take a sip of milk.

After a while, Harry eventually stopped eating, and sighed; he had only eaten around half of the bowl, but he was sure he would be sick again if he tried to finish it. Would Snape get mad? Would he think that he wasn't grateful for the food? Picking the fork back up, he looked at the bowl with dread.

"It's alright if you can't finished it all, your body is still adjusting," his professor said, evidently aware of his predicament. Harry nodded thankfully before setting the fork back down, and grabbing one of the napkins on the tray; he was sure he had made quite a mess of himself, as he often did when he ate spaghetti. Harry got his answer when the napkin came back with a red stain on it after he wiped his face, he wondered, a bit abashedly, how long that had been there. They sat in a relative silence, other than the sound of the fork occasionally hitting the bottom of the bowl while Snape continued to eat the rest of his meal.

Harry found himself watching the man eat, his slender fingers grasping the fork as he spun it gently before bringing it to his mouth. He found it odd watching Snape do something so, well, _human_ ; sure, he had seen all of the teachers eating in the Great Hall, but this was different somehow.

"I think it's time I check your injuries, I need to see how they're progressing," the man said without raising his eyes from the bowl as he finished the last few bites, and wiped his mouth with a napkin. Harry bit his lip, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

"O-okay," he said nervously. Snape took the tray from Harry's lap before placing his now empty bowl onto it.

"I need to grab a few things, I will be right back." Snape wasn't gone long enough, in only a couple of minutes he was back with a small black bag that Harry imagined was his first aid kit.

"Okay, I'm going to need you to remove your shirt," the man requested plainly, setting the bag onto the nightstand before snapping in open, and rifling through it. Harry felt his throat tighten as he began fumbling with the black buttons on the front; he didn't want to do this, he _really_ didn't want to do this. It reminded him too much of when that doctor… _No_ Snape wasn't like that. He had saved him, taken care of him, and Harry trusted him, right? Then why were his hands starting to shake?

Severus frowned slightly as the boy before him started to tremble as he tried to undo the buttons; when he got half way down, Severus stopped him.

"Potter, are you alright?" He asked gently, beginning to grow uneasy at the child's reaction.

"Y-yes, I'm fine."

"Then why are you shaking like a leaf?" To tell the truth, Harry didn't know why; he trusted Snape, didn't he? But no matter how much he reassured himself that it was alright, all of the same emotions that he had felt that day continued to swirl inside of him.

Harry shrugged at the question, part of him wanted to tell Snape about what had happened, how his Uncle had _let_ it happen, but the larger part was too mortified at the thought of the dour man knowing.

"Do you feel uncomfortable with removing your shirt?" Severus asked cautiously, not wanting the boy to go into another panic attack, as he already seemed to be showing the signs of one. The boy hesitated at first, but then nodded his head, averting his eyes.

Severus internally sighed, the only way to get to those bandages was by having the boy remove his shirt, but he didn't want to push him. There was a reason why he was reacting in such a way, but if it was from a traumatic experience, or just feeling awkward Severus wasn't sure; he prayed that it was the latter.

"I understand your uneasiness, but I need to make sure nothing has become infected," he said slowly, trying to ease the child's nerves.

"I-I know," he replied, his voice quivering slightly.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you what I was doing, step by step? There will be no surprises, I promise." Severus managed, forcing his voice to be as gentle as possible.

"Yes," Harry answered, still feeling nervous. Taking a deep breath, Harry continued unbuttoning the silk top, his fingers a little more steady this time. When it was open, he shrugged his left shoulder out of the sleeve before using his now free hand to pull it over the cast on his other arm.

"Okay, now I need you to lay on your stomach." Harry tossed the discarded shirt toward the foot of the bed, and carefully rolled over, causing the casts on his ankles to bump awkwardly into each other under the blanket as he shifted. He removed his glasses before handing them to Snape to set on the nightstand. Settling into the new position, Harry rested his left cheek on the pillow, facing the professor.

"I'm going to begin removing the bandages, if anything hurts, or if you feel uncomfortable at all, tell me, and I will stop." Harry nodded and closed his eyes, trying to force the butterflies in his stomach to settle.

He felt the man's long fingers begin to gingerly tug at the edge of the medical tape that held the wrappings in place, and then the cool air meeting his skin as it was peeled away.

Severus was glad to see that the welts had faded considerably, and the now closed cuts were a light pink; that meant that there wasn't any infection that he had to worry about. Banishing the used bandage, Severus reached for the medical bag on the nightstand, and retrieved the healing salve; one last application should do the trick.

"Now, I'm going to apply some salve to your back, okay?"

"Mmhmm," Harry answered, taking another deep breath. He couldn't suppress a flinch when Snape's fingers touched his skin, and he hated himself for it; he must look so weak right now. The man quickly withdrew his hand,

"Everything okay?" Snape's concern surprised Harry a bit, all he usually heard from the man's mouth was snark or scathing sarcasm.

"Yeah," he mumbled, eyes still closed. This time when Snape began applying the salve Harry didn't jump, but instead he continued trying to relax even though his heart was pounding in his ears. Snape continued to gently rub the medicine into his back with small circles, stopping every so often to dip his fingers back into the jar. By the time he had finished, Harry felt considerably better; Snape had been right, no surprises.

"Okay, I'm going to help you sit up now," the man said after tightening the lid on the glass pot, and returning it to the bag. Opening his eyes, Harry propped himself up with his left arm, and Snape grasped his right shoulder with his clean hand, helping him sit up as he swung his legs back over the edge of the bed.

"Your back has healed very well; there are no signs of infection, and all of the open injuries have closed, so you won't need another bandage," Snape reported as he wiped his hand with a rag, and began looking through his bag again before retrieving another jar; this one was a dark brown, and a bit bigger than the last one.

"Now, I need you to roll the legs of your trousers all the way up so I can check on those burns."

Harry felt his heart speed back up, but he took a shaky breath and tried to calm down as he rolled the first pant leg up, and then the other. He could feel himself start to panic again; he felt too exposed, the black shirt was still wadded up at the foot of the bed, and now his bottoms were rolled up way too high for his liking.

"Now, I'm going to remove the bandages and apply some burn cream. Are you alright?" Snape asked. Harry found himself nodding even though he wasn't; he could feel himself beginning to shake again. Like with his back, Snape removed the bandages from both legs and banished them, and then opened the jar of ointment.

As soon as the man's fingers touched his upper thigh, Harry's heart leapt into his throat, and his mouth went dry; this was too much, his hands were too close to _there_. Panic welled up in his chest like a balloon about to burst, and it suddenly felt like he couldn't get enough air. He tried to say something, but he couldn't get the words to come out; it felt like he was suffocating.

"Stop," he finally gasped, futilely trying to fight the tears that rushed to his eyes, and began to roll down his cheeks.

"P-please, stop!" Harry choked over a sob, even though the man had already removed his hands. Harry scrambled away from the man and sat up against the headboard, hugging his legs to his chest as he dropped his head in between his knees. He tried to bite back another sob, but it came out as a strangled cry, and eventually Harry gave in, crying in earnest.

Severus stood there in shock, unsure of what to do; part of him wanted, to his surprise, to rush over to the child and comfort him like he had last night, but he stopped himself; it was touch that had triggered this reaction in the first place. Instead, he placed the jar on the nightstand and sat at the foot of the bed, feeling useless. Arabella would have known what to do in this situation, why on earth did Albus choose him, of all people? Pinching the bridge of his nose, Severus sighed; he couldn't just sit there, but he had no idea what to do.

This had confirmed it, to Severus' horror; something had happened, or _been done_ to Potter that would cause him to react in such a way, and only one kind of abuse could have done it. He suddenly felt like he wanted to vomit at the thought, but he took a deep breath; the boy needed him now to do… something. He inwardly cursed himself, why was he so useless at this?

"Potter," he tried, but the boy, unsurprisingly, didn't respond.

" _Potter_ ," Severus said a little more forcefully, hoping to get some kind of response from him.

"P-please d-don't, I'll be good. I p-promise!" The child sobbed as he tightened his arms around his knees. The very thought of what the child was talking about made him feel sick.

"Harry, I need you to calm down. Whatever it is that you're afraid of will not happen here," Severus said firmly, he had hoped that the use of his first name would snap him out of this episode, but to no avail, the child continued to cry in earnest.

Perhaps this is what Potter needed, Severus thought, to let out all of the emotion that had been pent up inside of him. The child's sobs were no longer panicked cries, but rather they sounded heartbroken, and desperate.

" _Sometimes, that's all a person needs, someone who will listen or simply 'just sit there,' like you said. Growing up in that household, I would bet money that Harry never had that."_

Arabella's words ran through his head like a godsend, and Severus knew what to do. Putting his hands on his knees, Severus stood up from the foot of the bed and slowly walked to the headboard. He stood beside the bed for a couple of moments, wondering if putting himself out there like this was really worth it, to destroy every façade that he had created, to make himself vulnerable to rejection. The next sob that wracked the boy's small frame was enough of an answer for him, banishing all hesitation without a trace. He gently sat beside the weeping boy, not wanting to startle him, and wrapped a single arm around his shaking shoulders, holding him securely.

Severus felt the child tense at the contact, but he didn't remove his arm, and after a few moments, to his surprise, he found the boy leaning into the touch. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything at all; instead, Severus just held him.

Harry had barely felt the bed dip when someone sat beside him, but he did register the sudden arm wrapping around his shoulders. He stiffened, waiting for some kind of pain to follow, but when it didn't come, Harry let himself relax a little. Realizing he was safe, Harry continued to cry, trying to melt into the embrace that held him. Harry tried to calm the flurry of emotions that were overwhelming him, but it was too much, and now that he had a shoulder to cry on they were pouring out of him.

Panic had started all of this, but now it was shame and fear that were running rampant; he was ashamed that he couldn't keep it together, in front of Snape no less, and ashamed that the incident with the doctor had happened at all. Harry didn't really know why he felt afraid, he knew that Snape would never hurt him that way, but there was always that little bit of doubt in the back of his mind that wouldn't let him relax. He wanted to run, it had been his first instinct, but with the casts on his legs he couldn't go anywhere. If there was one thing that Harry hated it was feeling trapped, but there wasn't really anything he could do about it now.

He wasn't sure how long they sat like this, but eventually his heart rate slowed, and his cries died down to hiccups; his head was still in buried in his knees, and his arms were wrapped around his legs, though not as tightly as they had been before. Part of him thought that he should feel awkward about the whole situation; he had cried in his most hated professor's arms for Merlin's sake, but oddly enough he didn't. There was something about the man that made Harry feel safe, a feeling that very seldom visited, though he couldn't figure out what it was.

"Better?" Was all the man said, still not releasing his firm, yet gentle, hold around Harry's shoulders.

"Yeah," he replied quietly into his legs, sniffling.

"Then would you like to take a bath? I'm quite certain that you're the one stinking up the place," Snape said with the slightest trace of humor in his voice. Harry couldn't help the small grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth, grateful that the man had at least tried to change the subject.

"Yes, please," he replied, lifting his head from his knees and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

The man got up from the bed and called Flower, requesting that she run a bath for him; the elf accepted eagerly and popped away, but not before proclaiming that it would be 'the best bath that young master has ever had,' much to Harry's amusement.

"I'm going to go get some clean clothes for you. I will be back in a moment," Snape said before walking across the hall into what Harry assumed to be the man's bedroom.

Harry smiled slightly to himself; a bath sounded really good at the moment, especially after laying in a bed for nearly two days. His happiness was short-lived, however, when he remembered that he would need help, recalling his thoughts from earlier that day.

Suddenly, the man came back into the room carrying a small folded stack of clothing in his hands.

"Ready?" To tell the truth, he wasn't; if rolling up his pants had sent him into a full blown panic attack, then he didn't know how he was going to handle having to get completely undressed.

"Uh, sir, how am I going to…" he trailed off, feeling more than just a little awkward.

Snape didn't respond; instead, he simply drew his wand and pointed it at Harry. At first, he didn't know what the man was doing, but then he smiled gratefully when he saw that his pajama bottoms had been transfigured into swimming trunks.

"Thanks," Harry said, feeling relieved that he wouldn't have to go through that again. The man didn't respond, instead he nodded with a look of understanding. Tucking the clean clothing under his arm, Snape picked up Harry and carried him down the hall to the bathroom.

The bath had already been drawn; there were a lot of bubbles floating on the steaming water, and the elf had even thrown in a couple of bath toys into the foam.

"I must apologize, Flower has not cared for a visitor in quite some time, so she tends to get a little excited," the man said, rolling his eyes at the playthings in the water.

"It's okay, I don't mind," Harry said with a grin on his face.

After assuring him that the casts had already been spelled against water, Snape helped him into the tub and set the fresh clothes onto the counter next to the sink.

"I will be down the hall, so call me when you are finished," he said before striding out of the bathroom and shutting the door with a click.

Harry sighed contently to himself as he relaxed in the hot water, resting his head against the back edge of the porcelain tub. It felt so good to finally bathe in water that wasn't ice cold, or scalding.

He looked down at the toys that were floating in the sea of foam; there was a bright yellow rubber duck, a little red and white tugboat, a plastic shark, and a frog that looked like it spit water when you squeezed it. Harry smiled at the toys, the Dursleys never let him take baths, except maybe when he had been a toddler, let alone give him anything to play with. Snape had seemed to think that the toys were a bit immature for him, but Harry didn't mind; in fact, they kind of looked fun.

But before he could play with them, Harry had to get clean first, he decided; he didn't want to give Snape any reason to get mad at him. Getting clean didn't take too long, after years of having to take three minute showers Harry was pretty good at bathing quickly.

Now that he was clean, Harry grabbed the small green frog that had been floating by his foot, and held it under the surface as he squeezed and released it to suck in the water. He was delighted at the stream of water that shot out of the frog's mouth when he squeezed it again, this time above the water, aiming at the boat that had fallen over on its side.

* * *

After shutting the bathroom door, Severus made his way back to Potter's room. Potter's room? Well, he was staying the summer, so Severus supposed it was, much to his chagrin.

Walking into the bedroom, Severus saw that it could be picked up a little; most of Potter's belongings were still piled on the ground at the foot of the bed, the blankets were bunched up haphazardly, and his medical kit was still open on the nightstand. He picked up the black pajama shirt that had fallen into the floor, and sent it to the laundry room downstairs before starting to right the bedding. Sure, he could have Flower do it in a fraction of the time, but Severus liked doing things himself if he could help it; besides, he needed time to think.

As reluctant as he was to admit it, Severus was worried about the boy; he had been through so much with those sorry excuses for relatives, and he was certain that there was more he still didn't know about. The child had only been in his home for two days, and he had already had two panic attacks, and three nightmares in one night, but he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed. Severus remembered what it had been like having to walk on eggshells around everyone, fearing that one wrong move would set them off.

Severus couldn't help the flash of guilt that went through him every time he thought about how he had treated him last year; the insults, the snide remarks, and the ridicule was probably like rubbing salt in the poor child's wounds. It was not uncommon for his students to be afraid of him, but they knew he wouldn't ever do anything to actually hurt them; with a sinking feeling Severus realized that any fear he had seen on Potter's face during the year had probably been genuine.

Now that the bed was made, he put the burn salve back in the black bag and snapped it shut, leaving it on the nightstand. He straightened the stack of books that he had given Potter, picking up the photo album the boy had been looking at earlier, and placing it in the top drawer of the nightstand. Severus would have put all of the books on the desk across the room, but then the boy wouldn't have been able to reach any of them.

Picking up the trunk from the floor, Severus put it on the newly made bed and flipped the latches to open it. He began unpacking the trunk and putting the items in their appropriate places. Quills, inkwells, and textbooks were all tucked away in the various drawers of the desk, and he sent the child's broom downstairs to be stored in the closet by the front door. He left the school robes in the trunk since Potter wouldn't be needing them until term began. After closing the heavy lid, Severus lifted the trunk and slid it under the bed.

Now that the room was clean, Severus sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his temples. Who did Dumbledore think he was kidding? He couldn't do this, he was in way over his head; it had only been two days, and he already felt exhausted. He was the head of Slytherin, so he was no stranger to abused children, but he usually depended on his prefects to help many of them adjust; now, however, he was on his own.

Severus was very good at spotting them, he knew an abused child when he saw one, but somehow with Potter he didn't. If he was being honest, he was disgusted with himself for letting a grudge cloud his judgment. Severus couldn't help but feel at fault; if he would have had his head out of his own arse, he would have noticed and gotten the child out sooner. How no one else saw this broken child for what he was last year was beyond him.

He put his head in his hands as he felt tears begin to sting his eyes,

"I'm so sorry Lily," Severus whispered.

* * *

Harry was currently laying in bed feeling wonderful; he was clean, and wearing a fresh set of pajamas that actually fit, unlike the ones he'd had back at Privet Drive. Snape had bid him goodnight shortly after helping him out of the bath, and into bed. To his relief, Snape had let him put the burn cream on himself afterwards. Now, he was staring at the dark ceiling, relishing in the feeling of being clean and out of pain.

As embarrassing as it was for Snape to know about how the Dursleys treated him, Harry couldn't help but be thankful that he didn't have to go through this alone anymore. Last year had been dreadful; having to mask each grimace every time he accidentally moved wrong and sent pain jarring through his body. It had been especially difficult when it came to his friends; Harry knew they could tell something was off about him in the first couple weeks of school when he was still recovering from the previous summer, but he had been able to avoid their suspicions well enough.

He couldn't help but wonder why Snape was being so nice to him; he'd given him books to read, food, and even let him take a bath. Where was the hate that he faced everyday last year? Where were the insults, the glares, and the sarcasm? With a sinking feeling, Harry realized that there must be a catch; there always was. What did Snape want from him?

Harry felt his eyes begin to droop, but he forced them open; he knew if he fell asleep the nightmares would come back, and he would wake up Snape again. He hated that the man didn't let him take any dreamless sleep.

Eventually, he couldn't fight the heaviness of his eyelids, and he drifted off without his knowledge.

Harry woke with a gasp, his heart was racing and his mind was still foggy with sleep. The dream had felt _too_ real; he could practically smell the antiseptic and feel cold linoleum floor under his feet.

Though he knew it was impossible, it felt like the man was in the room, leering at him in the dark. Harry pulled the blankets up to his chin, and shuddered at the thought. The movement brought something else to his attention; his pajama pants were sticking to his legs.

 _Oh no, no no no no!_

Tears rushed to his eyes as he realized what must have happened. How could he have done this? Snape was going to be livid, and probably send him back after he found out what a freak he was.

He struggled to suppress a sob, clamping a hand over his mouth, and squeezing his eyes shut. Somehow Snape hadn't woken up yet, but that didn't mean he wouldn't. What was he supposed to do, then? Wait until morning? Suddenly, he got an idea; Snape didn't have to know about this at all.

"Flower," Harry whispered into the dark, praying this would work. The small elf appeared with a pop beside his bed.

"Yes, young master? What are yous doing awake?"

"I'm sorry if I woke you."

"Do not apologize, Flower was not sleeping. What did yous want?" She squeaked.

"Well, uh, I w-wet my bed," Harry said, face burning with embarrassment.

"Oh! Do not worry, I'll fetch master Severus at once!"

"No, wait!" Harry exclaimed, but it was too late, the elf had already popped away.

He could feel the familiar feeling of panic welling up in his chest, as more tears rolled down his face. Snape was going to laugh at him, and it was only a matter of time before all of Slytherin knew about it.

Harry flinched as the door slowly creaked open, and the light was flipped on.

"What is it, Potter?" Snape asked, though it lacked the usual heat; instead, he just sounded tired.

"I-I'm sorry, sir. I called Flower, and she got you instead."

"That is because I instructed her to do so. Now, what is wrong? Did you have another nightmare?" Harry looked down, as his lower lip began to tremble; the man had evidently seen the tears in his eyes.

"What is it? The sooner you tell me, the sooner we can both go back to bed," Snape said when Harry didn't reply.

"I w-wet your bed, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, please, I'll clean it up I promise!" He cried hysterically. Snape walked toward the bed, and Harry threw up his arms in front of his head, trying to block the blow that was surely coming.

Severus stopped when he saw the movement; the child really did think he was going to strike him for wetting the bed.

"Potter, look at me." The boy opened his eyes, and slowly brought down his arms when he saw there wasn't any danger.

"I will never raise a hand to you, do you understand? Even if you managed to blow up my house, and set me on fire in the process. Want to know why?" When the boy nodded, he continued, "Because what your relatives did to you was despicable, and abusive. I would never strike a child, and there is nothing you can do that will change that."

"Y-you're not mad?"

"No, it was an accident, and one of the body's natural reactions to fear. I take it you had a nightmare?" When the boy nodded Severus added,

"That's what I suspected. Now, let's clean you up." With a simple flick of his wand, he cleaned the bed and the boy in one go.

"If that is all, I'm going back to bed," Severus said, heading for the door, but he stopped when he saw the confused look on Potter's face.

"What?"

"I get to keep them, sir?" He asked gesturing towards the blankets.

"Of course, why wouldn't you?"

"My Aunt and Uncle liked to take them away when this happened," the child murmured, looking down. Severus stopped the anger that wanted to show on his face, it wouldn't do to frighten him again.

"I'm sorry they did that, but like I said, you will not be punished for having an accident, because that is exactly what it is: an accident."

"Yes, sir. Goodnight," he said sleepily, rolling over underneath the blankets.

"Goodnight, Mr. Potter," Severus returned as he shut off the light, and made his way back to his own room, cursing those wretched muggles the whole way.


	5. Proper Penmanship

Chapter 5

Harry idly pushed the remainder of his breakfast around on the plate with his fork; he had eaten some of the eggs and toast Flower had given him, but not very much of it. It wasn't that he was full, he just didn't want anymore. Harry was sure that Snape would scowl at the pitiful amount he had eaten; maybe he could blame it on his body not being adjusted yet, but he knew that that excuse wouldn't work for much longer. Snape had said that Madame Pomfrey would be stopping by to check on his progress after breakfast, and he pretty much lost his appetite afterwards.

Even though she had been the one who had healed him the first time, according to Snape, Harry was still a bit apprehensive about the whole thing. It was difficult enough getting used to the idea that Snape knew about how the Dursleys treated him, adding another person to that group just made him anxious. Despite the nervousness that was coursing through his body, Harry couldn't help but be excited at the possibility of getting the casts off; after nearly a week of having to be carried everywhere and being bored out of his mind, he was more than ready to use his legs again.

It had been a couple of days since that horrible night where he had wet the bed, and much to his surprise Snape hadn't brought it up again, but that didn't mean he wouldn't. As much as he wanted to trust the man, he couldn't; too many times had Harry made the mistake of letting his walls down, only to be crushed later. Not again, he decided, all he had to do was survive the summer and as soon term began he could act like none of this had ever happened. With a sinking feeling, Harry wondered if he would have to return to his relatives' house next summer when whatever "suspicious activity" Snape had talked about was taken care of. He pushed away the hope that maybe he wouldn't have to; it was dangerous to have too much hope for the future, it only made the disappointment that much more bitter, he had come to find.

Suddenly, the door was opened to reveal the dour professor, followed by Madame Pomfrey, who was carrying a small black medical bag. The man frowned when he saw how little Harry had touched his food.

"You do know that breakfast is meant to be eaten, do you not, Mr. Potter?" Harry looked down as he felt his face redden.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, I'm just not that hungry, is all," he mumbled, a bit embarrassed at being chastised in front of Madame Pomfrey.

"That is not an adequate excuse; your body needs the nutrients if you are to recover properly, and you cannot afford to deprive yourself," he said sternly as he took the tray, and Harry's barely touched breakfast off of his lap, and placed it on the desk.

"Yes, sir." Madame Pomfrey, having already set her bag on the nightstand, made her way to Harry's bedside.

"How are you feeling today, Mr. Potter? Better than when I last saw you, I presume?" She asked cheerfully as she rifled through the kit.

"Uh, yeah. I'm feeling good, I guess," he said.

"Eloquent as ever, Potter," Snape said, though the remark didn't hold the usual snark. Harry barely managed to stifle a grin when the mediwitch gave his professor a sharp look before turning back to him with a smile on her face.

"Well, that's good to hear," she said as she retrieved her wand, "First I'm going to run a simple diagnostic to see how your body has responded to the treatment you have received so far. You will feel a slight tingling sensation, but it won't hurt at all and should only take a couple of minutes. Ready?" As soon as Harry nodded, the woman waved her wand, and he was surprised to see a quill and parchment appear out of thin air and begin writing on its own accord. At first, he didn't feel anything, then it suddenly felt like his whole body had fallen asleep; for some reason, the sensation reminded him of the static from the Dursley's television when Dudley had broken the antenna.

After a few moments, the writing, along with the sensation, stopped and the quill vanished, leaving the parchment suspended in the air; Madame Pomfrey grabbed and scanned over it quickly before placing it on the nightstand.

"It looks like your injuries have healed rather well, though your bladder will still be a little weak. How about we have a look at those casts, shall we?"

For the next half hour or so, Madame Pomfrey removed the casts and gingerly rotated his ankles and wrist, checking his range of motion and making sure nothing still hurt. She then helped him take a few experimental steps, and Harry was soon able to walk on his own like nothing had ever happened, much to his delight. Afterwards, she checked on his thighs and back, experimentally touching and prodding here and there. The mediwitch reported, much to Harry's relief, that the skin seemed relatively healthy and the now faint marks on his legs would fade in the next week or so.

"What about my back?" He asked meekly, not really sure if he wanted to hear the answer. The woman sighed at that, making Harry's stomach sink a little further than it already had.

"Well, the new welts and marks have closed and faded a bit, but some of the cuts were a little deep and may scar. The scars that were already there before will remain; there are creams that will make the marks lighter, but they won't vanish completely, unfortunately," she said regretfully.

"Oh," Harry answered, his disappointment evident his in voice.

"Our scars remind us that we survived our past, Mr. Potter. It would do you well not to forget that," Snape cut in after the silence had become uncomfortable. Harry smiled at that, he hadn't really thought about it that way before.

"Other than that, it looks like you have a clean bill of health, Mr. Potter," the witch stated cheerfully, changing the subject. "You should take it easy for a few days, but it is important that you stay active so your legs get accustomed to being used again, but nothing too strenuous; it would do no good for you to reinjure yourself, young man," Harry nodded vigorously at that, he couldn't bare the thought of being restrained to the bed again. "You are also underweight, which isn't really surprising, but that can be easily remedied with regular meals and a nutrient potion at every breakfast," she reported, looking over the parchment again for anything that may have been overlooked.

"Yes, ma'am," he said politely.

"If that is all I will be taking my leave," she picked up her bag, "If anything new arises, don't hesitate to contact me," the mediwitch said, though the last part seemed to be more directed at Snape than at Harry. The man nodded curtly, and Madame Pomfrey left; neither of them said anything until they heard the floo flare.

"You did well," the man said unexpectedly, sending Harry for a loop. For a moment he just sat there slack-jawed, stunned at the sudden praise.

"It is common courtesy to show appreciation when one compliments you; I assumed that even you would know that, Potter," Severus said with a smirk at the boy's shocked expression. That seemed to snap him out of it, as his face flushed at the comment.

"Oh, uh sorry, I mean thank you," he said, seemingly further embarrassed that he had stumbled over his words.

This Potter had him confused, where was the defiant and disrespectful child that he had seen all last year? Severus stopped himself, no that hadn't been the boy, he reminded himself with a sigh; that was James _bloody_ Potter he had been seeing. Merlin, how had he allowed himself to be so blinded? Yes, he had let his biases cloud his judgement, but Potter definitely had not been like that all year. Severus knew he could be downright terrifying when he wanted to be, but even his most scathing glares never elicited such a response in class; if anything, the boy glared back. The abuse, Severus knew, must have been going on for years before Hogwarts; so why was the boy acting so fearful all of a sudden? Something was definitely going on with the brat, and Severus didn't like it.

"Well Potter, now that you have your mobility back, as well as your potential to wreak havoc on my home, I do believe it is time I tell you some of my rules," he said dryly, searching the boys face for any trace of the familiar indignance he had come to know, but to his disappointment, the boy seemed to stiffen even more than he already had been.

"You are not to skip meals," he continued when the boy didn't respond, "as you cannot afford to deprive your body of nutrients; breakfast will be at eight o'clock, lunch at one, and dinner at six. I expect you to be in your room by nine o'clock, and in bed by ten." He paused, anticipating some kind of outrage at the mention of a curfew, but Potter simply nodded.

"Secondly, I do not tolerate liars, and you will not like the consequences should you choose not believe my disdain for them. Most importantly, you are not to knowingly put yourself or anyone else for that matter in danger, Merlin help you if you do," he warned gravely, maintaining eye contact to make sure the boy knew how serious he was. After that moronic little stunt with the sorcerer's stone last year, Severus wanted to nip that idiotic dangerous streak in the bud.

"Yes, sir."

"You will be permitted to explore the grounds, and fly on your broom if you wish, but only after you have worked on your summer assignments for at least an hour that day and I deem your work to be adequate. You will also be expected to keep this room tidy, I have had the misfortune to witness the disaster that is the Gryffindor common room on more than one occasion, and I do not wish to see that replicated here, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now if you break these rules there will be consequences that you will not find to be at all pleasant." Now that got a response from the boy, but it wasn't at all the one that Severus wanted. Potter's eyes widened and an incredible amount of fear flashed across his, now pale, face before he unsuccessfully tried to hide it. Severus could only imagine the sadistic punishments going through the child's mind after living in that hellish household.

"I apologize, Mr. Potter, allow me to clarify; whatever punishments that you are fabricating in your dense head are not the ones I had in mind. By consequences I meant writing lines, going to bed early, being confined to your room, and losing privileges," Severus clarified, hoping he successfully avoided the child from having another panic attack that looked inevitable.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, that was it? Those didn't even seem to be real rules, the very idea of getting in trouble for skipping a meal was almost alien; if anything Aunt Petunia always punished him when he tried to eat some of the leftovers before they threw them away. Then there were the punishments, writing lines and having to stay in his room? This had to be a trick, he was sure that there were other rules that Snape purposely wasn't telling him about so he could punish him even worse when he unknowingly broke them; Uncle Vernon liked to do that.

"Yes, sir," Harry said for the third time, not really sure what else to say.

Severus just looked at the boy before him for a moment, he could easily tell that Potter did not believe a word he had just said, but there was not anything he could really do about it now. Trust wasn't something that abused children just gave out, and Severus hadn't really expected the boy to. He had hoped that he was making progress with the child over the last couple of days, but evidently not. Severus almost wished that the boy would break one of the rules, so he would see that he would not be beaten bloody for making a mistake, but something told him that Potter wouldn't.

"I have some work to do in my lab, so you will have a couple hours of free time before lunch. The summer assignment rule will not apply today, so you may go outside and explore the grounds if you wish, just stay within the wards."

"I will," Harry promised, not wanting to upset the man.

"Good. If you need me, simply call Flower and have her fetch me," Snape said curtly before leaving the room; Harry could hear the man's footsteps going down the stairs, and they eventually receded to nothing.

Now that the man was gone, Harry finally allowed himself to relax as a smile crept onto his face. He could finally get out of bed. He jumped up and made his way out into the hall and to the stairs. Harry had the sudden childish desire to thunder down them the way he had seen the Weasleys do it at the Burrow, but he just barely restrained himself; Snape would probably get angry at the noise. He hadn't really noticed it before, but now that he thought about it the manor was always silent, aside from the occasional creak and groan.

When he got down the stairs, Harry was met by a pristine, but cozy, looking living room before turning right, and walking through a large kitchen toward the back door. Just as he was about to open it, however, a sudden pop made him yelp in fright; it took a moment for him to realize that the noise had only been Flower.

"Sorry if Flower scared you, young master, but Master Severus wanted me to give these to you before yous went out," she squeaked, holding out a pair of shoes and socks.

"Oh, thanks Flower," Harry said, heat rising to his face as he realized he had nearly gone outside barefoot; Snape would have gone barmy if he caught him like that.

"Yous are very welcome!" She said cheerfully before popping away. After Harry slipped them on, he pushed the screen door open and went out, taking a deep breath of fresh air; it felt so good to finally get to be outside.

As he made his way down the small stone steps, Harry gasped when he saw the all of the trees before him. About a dozen or so meters from the house, there were rows and rows of trees that seemed to go on forever. He hurriedly trotted over to the orchard and was thrilled to see that they were apple trees; the farther he walked, he found a couple rows of orange trees too. Harry walked up to one of the tall apple trees and simply admired it; clusters of bright red apples littered its branches, causing them to bend slightly at the weight.

Right beside him, a rather large apple hung just low enough for him to reach, shining invitingly at him; Harry reached for it, but stopped just before his fingers could brush its smooth skin. Snape probably wouldn't like him taking fruit from his trees, even if it looked like he had enough apples to live off of for the next five years; maybe he wouldn't mind, but Harry didn't want to risk it. The man would probably sneer and call him greedy since he just ate breakfast, and send him back to the Dursley's. That was it, Harry decided, he was going to be so good this summer that the man couldn't possibly have any reason to send him back.

Harry never really had teachers like him before. In primary school, Aunt Petunia had always taken the soonest opportunity every year to warn his new teacher what a manipulative troublemaker he was before Harry could prove them otherwise. So it wasn't ever long before the once welcoming expression that he had seen on the first day turned into one of guarded suspicion. Dudley made matters even worse; every time his cousin did something to get Harry into trouble, the tearful wails were believed over his meek claims to innocence. Eventually, Harry stopped trying to defend himself, and simply said nothing when Dudley decided to spill paint, or steal something off of the teacher's desk. None of his classmates ever came to his aid, but Harry couldn't really blame them since his cousin had practically bullied all of them into silence.

All of that had changed when he went to Hogwarts; with his Aunt back in Little Whinging, and her incredible hatred for all things magical, Harry finally got the fresh start that he had always wanted. Most of his professors had been nice, and even though Professor McGonagall was pretty strict, she still treated him kindly. It was odd not being blamed for the misgivings of others students like he had been with Dudley. He remembered, a bit abashedly, automatically apologizing to Professor Sprout when Ron accidentally dropped one of the clay pots, resulting in a spectacular crash. It was nice having professors who didn't immediately assume the worst of him; Snape, on the other hand, had been an entirely different story.

Harry never understood why Snape hated him so much, it wasn't like he ever did anything wrong in his class on purpose, but the man simply seemed out to get him. Even when he had tried to make a good first impression by taking notes during his first potions lesson, Snape gave him a detention for supposedly "not paying attention." After that, no matter how well behaved Harry tried to be, the man found something to sneer at and take house points, so he eventually just gave up; the very injustice of it all had him seething. Now, for reasons Harry couldn't hope to understand, Snape was almost being _nice_ to him. Sure, he was still sarcastic and snarky, but the man wasn't constantly ridiculing him like he usually did. Were adults always this confusing?

Leaving the tempting apple where it hanged, Harry kept walking down one of the rows until he came upon a couple of greenhouses that nearly rivaled the ones at Hogwarts. The doors on the tall glass buildings had been locked, to his disappointment, but he could still make out some of the plants that crowded the space through the dirty glass. Maybe if he was good Snape would take him inside to look at all the plants later.

* * *

Severus trudged back up the stairs from his lab and into the kitchen, having forgotten his potions journal on the counter. Retrieving it, he turned to head back down into the basement to start his work, but stopped when he caught a glimpse of Potter through the window above the sink. The boy was walking through the apple orchard, kicking stray stones here and there. Suddenly he stopped, looking intent on picking one of the ripe apples from the trees. Ha! Severus knew that the brat couldn't keep up the good behavior for long now that he was free from the confines of the guest room. Just like a Potter to-

Suddenly, the boy's reaching arm froze, and so did Severus' vicious thoughts. With a rather forlorn look on his face, Potter dropped his arm and continued walking; Severus silently watched him until he vanished from sight. What had he been thinking? In all honesty, he would not have minded the boy taking an apple; it was fruit after all, and Merlin knew he had too bloody many of the damned things anyway. A bit ashamed at the route his train of thought had so quickly taken, he snatched the leather bound journal from the tiled counter and made his way back down to his lab in a huff. Old habits died hard, he supposed.

* * *

Harry returned to the manor dirty, but happy. The grounds had been a lot larger than he had expected, and even after several hours of exploring, Harry was sure that there were still more places that he still hadn't gotten the chance to see. After finding the greenhouses, Harry had ventured further into the forest that bordered the edge of the clearing that the manor resided in, and found a small creek that ran in between the trees. While the stream wasn't exactly large enough for any fish, there were a lot of frogs enjoying the cool water, and Harry quickly entertained himself by catching a few, or rather he tried to. Their slippery bodies always managed to jump away right before he could close his hands around one, splashing a bit of mud and water on his skin.

He built a little dam with some twigs and rocks, and tried to catch more frogs for awhile, but he eventually just contented himself with laying in the grass. In the cool shade of a large tree, Harry found himself beginning to doze; the pleasant breeze, and the gentle trickling of the stream was much more relaxing than he had anticipated. Not wanting to fall asleep, he shook himself awake and brushed his pants off.

Harry spent the rest of his time outside exploring the forest, making sure to walk along the stream so he could find his way back. Along the way, he came across an old treehouse and a swing that hung from a sturdy branch supporting the shack. Why would Snape have a treehouse in his backyard? He wondered, for a moment, if the man ever had any kids. After carefully climbing the now worn planks that were bolted to the side of the tree, Harry was thrilled at what he saw inside.

The house was small, it couldn't have been much more than eight feet in each direction, with a slanted roof and two square holes acting as windows on either side. The space was filthy; years of neglect had resulted in an incredible amount of dust, cobwebs, and dead leaves strewn across the planked flooring. There was a rickety chair and an end table resting on its side; he righted them both before taking a tentative seat, making sure it could support his weight. It would take some work to clean up, but that wasn't anything that Harry wasn't used to; he smiled as he looked around, it was perfect.

Now, Harry stood in the kitchen unsure of what to do; the clock on the wall said it was only roughly noon, so he still had another hour before lunch. He supposed he could get a head start on his summer work, or at least do some of the reading. Even though Snape had said he didn't have to do any homework today, Harry wanted to prove that he wasn't the dunderhead that the man so often referred to him as. Maybe this was his chance for a fresh start with Snape too.

With a newfound resolve, Harry went upstairs and selected his potions textbook from his desk before making himself comfortable in the armchair that was now by the window. Contrary to popular belief, Harry actually enjoyed potions; it was not unlike cooking, and he found all the different ingredients and methods to be fascinating. Though it became rather difficult to fully appreciate the subject with Snape practically breathing down his neck, and the Slytherins constantly trying to sabotage his cauldron. He flipped to the specified pages that had been assigned and began to read.

* * *

Severus sat at the dining room table, drumming his fingers impatiently on the wooden surface; the brat should have been back twenty minutes ago! He grit his teeth in annoyance, he had made it abundantly clear that lunch would be at one o'clock, and already Potter was disobeying him. Some lines were in order, he decided; perhaps some aching fingers would remind him to be on time for meals. Leaving their lunch on the table, Severus angrily stalked toward the back door, intent on finding the brat and dragging him back by his ear; or at least he had been until Severus saw the dirty shoes sitting on the floor up against the wall.

So the boy was in the house, somehow this made Severus even angrier; he could understand if Potter had lost track of time while playing outside, but he was in the manor where there was a bloody clock in nearly every room. Seething, Severus made his way up the stairs and down the hall; he opened his mouth to scold the brat as he pushed the guestroom door open, but quickly stopped at what he saw.

Potter was curled up in the armchair, asleep, with a textbook in his lap; his glasses were crooked on his face with his cheek pressed up against the side of the chair. Upon further inspection, Severus saw that it was the _potions_ textbook and that the pages were flipped open to the calming draught section; if he remembered correctly, it was for the summer assignment he had assigned to the first years last term.

Severus found his irritation dissipating, a bit surprised that Potter had started his potions work, of all subjects, even though he had practically given him the day off. This was not the behavior of a lazy student relying on his fame for attention, he realized, but rather one of a diligent pupil. He shook his head as yet another misconception crumbled; this was going to be a very long summer indeed.

With a sigh, Severus removed the book from the boy's lap and put it on the desk. He was secretly pleased that the boy had taken it upon himself to start his potions work, but there was no need for Potter to know that. Fixing a scowl on his face, he crossed his arms before sternly saying,

" _Mister Potter_." He was rewarded when the boy jolted awake, and nearly fell of off the chair.

"Huh?" Harry blinked sleepily and tried to shake the sluggishness from his head.

"Are you _aware_ of what time it is?" The voice drawled, its tone snapping him awake. Harry hurriedly fixed his glasses on his face and looked at the clock; it was nearly 1:30. Why was that important again? There was something he needed to do, but what was he forgetting?

"Um, 1:30, sir?" Harry said uncertainly, hoping that whatever it was that he had forgotten wouldn't get him into too much trouble.

"Do you or do you not recall me telling you that you are not to skip meals under any circumstances? Or are you intentionally being obtuse?" Lunch! Of course, how could he have forgotten? Just his luck to come back to the house early only to fall asleep, and be late anyway.

"M'sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep," he mumbled, looking down. Why couldn't he ever do anything right? The man made a disapproving noise, and began to leave the room,

"Wash up before coming down." Looking at his clothes, Harry grimaced at the mess he had made of himself; there was a mixture of dirt and grass stains on his jeans, and dried mud flecked on his forearms. He hopped off of the chair and padded to the bathroom; after cleaning himself off the best he could, Harry made his way downstairs. He would have liked to change into something clean, but Snape had apparently forgotten to retrieve his old clothes from the Dursleys.

When he entered the dining room, Harry suddenly found himself feeling very small; the table was incredibly long, it must have been capable of seating at least twenty people. Snape was sitting at the end, but he had yet to touch his plate, evidently intent on waiting for him. Not wanting to make the man wait any longer, Harry hurriedly took his seat. He frowned when he saw a vial sitting next to his plate.

"I thought Madame Pomfrey said I only had to take a nutrient potion at breakfast?"

"That is an appetite stimulant, I thought you might appreciate being able to eat a full portion, but if you really want one I suppose I can arrange-"

"No no no, it's fine really," Harry back pedaled, making a point to quickly down the potion without complaint. "Thank you, sir." The man didn't reply, instead he began eating, so Harry tucked into his own food.

The meal continued in a relative silence, but it wasn't as awkward as one might think it would be; in fact, it was rather comfortable. Harry was pleased to see that he was able to finish most of his food before he felt full instead of only roughly half.

Harry's happiness was short-lived, however, when he remembered that he still hadn't been punished for being late to lunch. Suddenly feeling nervous, Harry snuck a quick look at Snape, who was still eating; the man didn't seem angry, well he looked a bit annoyed, but Harry was pretty sure that that was just his face. He worried his lip in between his teeth, as he sat there in silence, apprehensively waiting for the man to finished eating.

Severus could tell that something was wrong with the boy; he was incredibly tense, and kept casting anxious glances at him when he thought he wasn't watching. It was almost annoying, what was the boy so afraid of now? At first Severus had assumed that this stiff behavior had just been Potter getting used to the new environment, but now it seemed to be something else.

"If you are finished, you may rinse your dishes in the sink." The boy slid off of the chair and carried the plate and glass out of the room, seemingly eager to leave his presence.

A sudden crash from the kitchen had Severus dropping his fork onto the table, and rushing to see what had happened. Potter was sprawled on the tile floor at an awkward angle, evidently having fallen, and the ceramic plate and glass had shattered on the floor, sending the leftover food and milk all over the tiles.

"What happened? Are you alright?" The boy scrambled away from him, getting milk and food all over his jeans.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, please I didn't mean to. Please don't be mad, I'll clean it up, honest!" he said frantically as he began hurriedly picking up the glass with his bare hands.

"Potter! Stop!" The boy didn't seem to hear him through his panic as he continued to pick up the shards, clearly cutting himself. Taking matters into his own hands, Severus gingerly stepped around the glass and grabbed the child's shaking wrists, making him drop the sharp pieces before he could do anymore harm to himself. Ignoring Potter's litany of increasingly panicked apologies, he firmly dragged him over to the sink and forced his injured hands under the warm running water. When he felt the boy calm down and stop struggling against his grip, Severus released his wrists to let him rinse the blood off himself.

"What happened?" He asked calmly, spelling the floor clean and fixing the broken dishes.

"I-I slipped. I'm really sorry, sir, I didn't mean to I swear," Potter sniffled, tears welling in his eyes. Severus noted that the boy was wearing socks, it was no wonder he had fallen on the tile floor.

"Of course you didn't mean to, you foolish child. Look," he instructed, holding up the now whole glass and plate, " you have nothing to apologize for, it was easily remedied." Looking over his shoulder from the sink, the child tentatively asked,

"S-so, you're not mad?"

"No, I am not. Even if I wasn't able to fix them, I wouldn't have been angry; it was an accident. If I got angry every time something was broken, I would not have survived this long being a teacher." Grabbing a dish towel, Severus turned off the water and gently began patting the boy's hands dry.

"Are you alright? Does anything hurt?"

"No, I'm fine," Potter said a little too quickly for Severus' liking. Gently putting his fingers under the boy's chin, he forced him to meet his gaze.

"Do not lie to me, I cannot help you if you do not tell me the truth."

"I h-hit my head kinda hard, and my hands still hurt," he admitted sheepishly. Severus was pleased that the boy had relaxed enough to confide in him about his injuries instead of spiraling into another flurry of denial; it was a small victory, but progress nonetheless. Baby steps.

"Thank you for telling me, go sit on the couch in the living room for a moment while I grab some things." Retrieving his first aid kit for what seemed like that hundredth time already, Severus strode into the living room and sat beside the boy on the plush couch; casting a simple diagnostic on his hands, Severus found that there were still pieces lodged in the boy's flesh. With incredible precision, he carefully extracted the few slivers of glass that had embedded themselves in the child's still bleeding palm with tweezers; Severus was sure that it hurt, but Potter didn't make a sound.

After ensuring that all of the glass had been removed, he healed the cuts with a simple spell and wiped the rest of the blood away with a cloth.

"How does that feel?" Potter looked at his palms, experimentally opening and closing his hands; he smiled.

"Like nothing ever happened," he marveled, suddenly his smile fell. "Am I going to be punished, sir?"

"For what? I thought I made it clear that what happened in the kitchen was no fault of your own," he said with furrowed eyebrows as he carded his slender fingers through the boy's unruly hair, looking for any sign of a lump.

"No, I know that. I meant for being late for lunch," he mumbled. Well that explained his tense behavior at the table. Severus could see that Potter was expecting to be punished harshly; the boy looked terrified. He nearly said no, it hadn't been all that surprising that the boy had fallen asleep; his body still clearly needed to recover. Then Severus got a better idea; perhaps he could gain a little bit of trust by proving he had meant it when he promised not to punish him the way Potter's sorry excuses for relatives had.

"Yes, you will be; as you know from attending my class, I do not tolerate tardiness. Follow me," Severus said briskly, trying to ignore the miserable look on the boy's face.

Harry followed the man upstairs with his heart pounding in his ears; maybe it would only be a few whacks, he thought hopefully, but what if it was worse? It didn't matter, Harry decided, whatever it was he was going to take it; it was his fault he had fallen asleep. Snape had been so nice to him too, and this is how he repaid him?

Suddenly the man opened one of the many doors in the hall, and stepped inside with Harry in tow. There was a large desk that sat in front of tall windows that gave a lovely view of much of the grounds; he could even make out the green houses behind the orchard. Bookcases lined the walls from the floor to the ceiling, this must be Snape's study.

Severus felt his heart thud painfully as he saw the evident turmoil on the boy's face; chalking it up to heartburn from lunch, he drew his wand and transfigured one of his armchairs into a small desk and chair.

"Sit," he ordered, but not too sternly. A confused look briefly flashed across Potter's face, before he quickly took a seat. Retrieving a piece of parchment, ink, and a quill from his desk, Severus placed them in front of the boy.

"Fifty lines. 'I will be on time for meals' should suffice," he said smoothly, smirking internally at the increasingly confused look on the boy's face. Fifty lines from the infamous bat of the dungeons was unheard of, Severus knew; whenever he resorted to this form of punishment during detentions he never assigned anything short of three hundred.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, feigning innocence.

"But... sir, you're not going to… You mean I'm just gonna… That's it?" Potter finally managed.

"Contrary to popular belief, being late for lunch is not the ultimate sin, nor does it constitute for severe retribution. What else were you expecting?" He asked, sarcasm lightly tinting his words.

"Well, I thought…" Potter didn't seem to have the heart to finish his statement, but he didn't need to; Severus had seen it from a mile away.

"You thought I was going to hit you?" It somehow sounded more like a statement than a question. The boy blushed and looked away, but he nodded ever so slightly; if he hadn't been expecting it Severus may not have seen it.

"Do I look like a _liar_ to you, Mr. Potter?" He said, suddenly angrily, crossing his arms as if he had been offended.

"What? No, sir, I never said that!" Potter said, eyes wide and shaking his head. Severus was internally smirking, Gryffindors really were too easy.

"Well, that certainly is what you are implying, considering I already explicitly stated that I would never strike you like those revolting relatives of yours."

"I'm sorry, sir! I never meant-" He stopped as Severus raised a hand. This had gone on long enough, he wanted to build some trust, not send him reeling into another episode.

"I know you didn't," he said, his tone much gentler, "I understand that it will take time for you to put your faith in others again, and I do not expect you to trust me, as I have not been the most deserving of it, but all I ask is that you try."

"I-I trust you sir."

"No, you do not." Potter opened his mouth to protest, but he silenced him again.

"You do not trust me yet, nor do you truly believe everything I have said to you, but eventually you will. The healing process is not something that can be rushed, Mr. Potter; trying to do so will only result in further injury. Much like how your physical ailments took time to heal, your mental and emotional state require the same care," he finished, secretly hoping that he had finally gotten through to the child. After a few moments of pondering his words, the boy nodded.

"Fifty lines. Get on with it," he said sharply, taking a seat on the high backed leather chair at his desk. The room became silent, aside from the occasional squeaking of a quill on parchment.

Harry was finished with his lines before he knew it; that hadn't been bad at all, his hand didn't even feel sore! After counting them twice, he took the sheet from his desk and brought it to his teacher, who was busy reading one of his books.

"I'm finished," he said, handing the man his lines.

"So I see," Snape said dryly as he took the parchment and looked them over.

In all honesty, Potter's penmanship was dreadful; the letters were wobbly and barely legible, not to mention ink was spattered in several different areas of the parchment. Severus was used to the incomprehensible scrawl from first years who were still getting accustomed to using a quill, but this looked like the boy had never used one before. Last year he would have just assumed that Potter was too lazy to properly learn how to use a quill or just didn't care, but now he knew better than that.

"Did I do something wrong, sir? I counted them twice, honest," the boy said meekly, having noticed Severus' increasing frown.

"No, though your penmanship leaves much to be desired." Potter blushed at that, evidently aware of its poor quality. "Tell me," Severus continued, "did any of your housemates ever notice that you were having difficulty learning how to use a quill and offer their assistance?"

"Erm, no, but it's not really their fault that I'm lousy with a quill." Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes, leave it to Gryffindors to insist on allowing a first year to play quidditch, where he could easily plaster himself to the side of the castle wall, but neglect to ensure that said student could write properly! If Severus ever discovered that this had happened in his own house, he would have been handing out detentions like candy.

"House members are expected to look out for one another; they should have made sure that you were adjusting to using a quill, as it is quite different from the muggle stationary that you are used to. There is no need to feel embarrassed," Severus added, seeing the look on his face, "you are not the first muggle-raised student to struggle with a quill, nor will you be the last. If you would like, I can assist you with it so you will be adequately prepared for the upcoming term." To Severus' horror, the boy's face lit up as if he had given him one of the world's most precious gifts.

"Really, sir? You mean it, you're not joking or anything?" Harry couldn't believe it, the man was actually offering to help him! After suffering through a whole year without a pen or pencil to be seen, and handing in work that Harry knew looked horrible, he couldn't wait to learn how to use a quill correctly. It seemed like a stupid thing to be excited over, he realized, but he couldn't help the smile that took over his face.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Good point. Harry was sure that Ron would give up sweets before Snape told a joke. Part of him, okay a lot of him, was eager to practice writing now, but he wasn't sure if the man would want to help him right away, especially just after being punished.

"No, sir," Harry said, unsure whether or not he should ask. He suddenly became frustrated with himself, he was a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake, not a Hufflepuff! "Sir, do you think I could practice a bit now? Maybe redo my lines since my handwriting was so bad?"

Never in all of his years of teaching had Severus Snape ever assigned a student to do lines, and then have them ask if they could to do more; this was definitely one for the books. Procuring another sheet of parchment from his desk, Severus placed it in front of the boy before drawing up his own chair beside him. After first showing him how to correctly hold the quill, Severus spent the better part of an hour supervising the boy carefully rewrite his lines, making corrections here and there about how to form a certain letter or to readjust his grip. It was slow going at first, but Severus was impressed to already see subtle signs of improvement from just this short session of instruction. It didn't escape his notice at how much the child opened up to his patient words, making each reminder of his deplorable treatment of him class that much more shameful. Potter obviously had a lot of potential, and it vexed him to no end to think how well he would be doing if he had been properly looked after from the start instead of living like an estranged house elf.

Severus watched the small boy focused intensely on his parchment in front of him, meticulously forming each letter, and found himself wondering what it would have been like if Potter had been given to him instead of those beasts. He knew it could have never happened, it simply would have been too risky at the time, and not to mention that Severus would have probably despised the idea, but he could not stop the 'what ifs' that floated around his mind without his consent.

Perhaps Potter would have not suffered so much then, perhaps Severus wouldn't have either.

* * *

A/N: And there we have it, another chapter finished! If you guys ever have any suggestions or a certain scene that you would like to see, my inbox is always open :) Remember, reviews are what fuel authors nowadays, so you know what to do. Until next time.


	6. A Deeper Understanding

Chapter 6

Harry could have skipped all the way to his room, that's how happy he was. The writing lesson with Snape had been brilliant. He had been a bit nervous that the man would snap at him like he usually did in class, but he never did; Snape had been unendingly patient, he didn't even get mad when Harry didn't get better right away. He was admittedly proud of himself, he could already tell that he was writing better, even if it was only by a little bit. Harry had been embarrassed when Snape had to keep readjusting his fingers, but that was okay; to think that he had been holding the quill wrong the whole time and no one had told him!

When he eventually made it back to his room, Harry found an owl sitting expectantly on his desk with an envelope held tightly in his beak. Excitement coursed through his body when he recognized the bird to be Errol, the Weasley's owl. The poor thing looked dead on its feet from the journey; his feathers were rumpled and uneven, and the bird kept tilting to one side before abruptly straightening up again, shaking itself awake. Harry hurried over to the bird and gave him a quick pet before taking the envelope from his beak; upon realizing that his duty had been completed, Errol used the last of his strength to fly over to Hedwig's now-empty perch and fall fast asleep.

Harry smiled down at the letter, it was his first one from a friend! He couldn't help but mildly wonder why they hadn't written him sooner, it was already several weeks into the summer holiday and he hadn't heard as much as a peep from either Ron or Hermione. A sense of dread suddenly began pooling in his stomach, what if it was an angry letter? Harry hadn't been able to write them yet either since Hedwig had been locked in her cage, so what if they were mad at him? His hands shook slightly as he slid the folded parchment from the envelope; Harry held the letter for a moment, unsure if he really wanted to open it. His fears were swiftly abated when he finally brought himself to read the words.

 _Harry,_

 _Have you fallen off of the planet, mate? I haven't heard from you all summer. Hermione is driving me bonkers, she's convinced something awful happened to you, and won't stop writing me. Honestly, whose idea was it to buy her that bloody bird? I just ignored her before, but now I'm getting kinda worried too. If you don't feel up to writing us back, can you just send a quick note saying that you're okay? Fred and George said that they would 'borrow' the flying car to check on you if you didn't reply soon. Erm, don't tell my mum that I told you about that, she'd probably whack me good. Anyways, I hope you're okay, mate._

 _-Ron_

Harry couldn't help but smile at his friend's concern, he'd never really had anyone worry about him before and it felt good, but if they really had been writing him this whole time, then why hadn't he gotten anything? He knew that parcels sometimes got lost in the muggle postage, but he wasn't sure if it worked the same way in the wizarding world. Besides, what were the odds that every single letter his friends sent had gotten lost? Now that Harry thought about it, his relatives were probably to blame; there was no way that they would allow anymore "freakishness" into their home than what was absolutely necessary, that being himself. He suddenly felt angry as he pictured his aunt tossing all of his mail into the rubbish bin without a second thought.

Grabbing some parchment and a quill from the desk, Harry went to start on his response, but stopped before any ink could mark the page. Would Snape let him reply? Even if he did, what would he be allowed to actually tell Ron? He couldn't imagine either of his friends taking the news that he was now living with the most hated professor at Hogwarts very well; they would probably assume that he was going to be used as potion ingredients.

Making his way to the man's study, Harry found himself silently standing in the doorway, not wanting to disturb him again so soon.

"Do not hover, Potter. If you intend on entering, then do so," Snape suddenly said without looking up from his work. Feeling his face redden, Harry tentatively walked up to the man's desk.

"What is it? I don't believe you're that eager to write more lines so soon."

"Erm, no sir. I, uh, got a letter from Ron, and he was asking a lot of questions. I wasn't really sure what I would be allowed to tell him," Harry said uneasily, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. With that admission, Snape put down his quill and looked up from the piles of parchment that littered the desk's smooth surface.

"Hmm, foresight, a rather unexpected trait for a Gryffindor, but then again you never have been one to stay within the lines." Harry continued to twist the bottom of his shirt, not really sure what to say; he couldn't tell if the man was complimenting or insulting him. The man stood and made his way to one of the bookshelves, idly browsing the many titles in his collection.

"As abnormal as it may be, I appreciate it nonetheless. You are correct for being concerned about what would be safe to send to your friends; while I don't particularly mind if they know that you are residing here, the same cannot be said for all of the wizarding world." The man's fingers skimmed along the spines of the books as he browsed; suddenly he plucked one from the shelf, evidently having found the one he was looking for. "The owl post is an excellent way for wizards to communicate, but it can easily be intercepted and that would jeopardize us both. Do you understand?" Harry nodded, relishing the warm feeling in his chest at the praise, as subtle as it may have been. He mildly wondered if his own mail had been tampered with when his friends sent their letters, it definitely made a lot more sense than them all conveniently being lost.

"Yes, sir. So what can I tell them then?"

"It would be best if you didn't mention that you're no longer at your relatives home, that in itself is dangerous information to be sending out willy-nilly. Other than that, I'm sure whatever trivial matters you and your friends talk about would be of little interest to any third party. I would suggest delving into the details of our _situation_ in person."

"But sir, I won't see them again until term starts!" Harry winced at the sound of his own voice, the words had come out much too close to a whine for his liking. "Sorry, sir," he quickly said when he saw Snape's eyes narrow considerably.

"Contrary to your little outburst, I never said that you would not be permitted to see your friends over the break. I am well aware that the manor can become mind-numbingly dull." Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You would let Ron and Hermione come to visit? You really mean it?"

"Against my better judgement, yes. Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger will be permitted to visit." Before Harry could stop himself, he flung himself at the man and wrapped his arms around his middle.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! We'll be well behaved, I promise!" Severus stiffened at the unexpected embrace, surprised that the boy had initiated contact after the incident with the burn salve. After a few moments of not being sure of what to do, he awkwardly patted the top of the boy's head.

"Yes, yes, alright. It's not that big of a deal," he dismissed, his heart in his throat. Severus didn't dare push the child away; the rejection, he knew, would be devastating for him. Seconds later the boy released him, and cheerfully said,"Thanks, sir!" before trotting out of the room to, what Severus assumed, start on the letters to his friends. He allowed a small smile to grace his lips as he shook his head at Potter's excitement, the boy really must have been much more bored than he had let on.

Severus was pleased to see that he seemed to be gradually becoming more comfortable at the manor, the gesture had proven that; though he had no idea what unholy spirit had possessed the brat to hug him, the infamous bat of the dungeons. Potter had done it before, but that had been in the middle of the night when he was a ball of tears and snot. This time the boy had been completely lucid; hell truly had frozen over.

Retaking his seat, he tried not to think about why Potter would be so excited to have friends over, he tried not to think about the lonely summers the boy had likely spent under the stairs, and he definitely tried not to think about the curious ache in his chest.

Severus did not succeed.

* * *

Harry laid on his bed, contently reading the rest of the calming draught section in his potions textbook. He had written his response to Ron a couple of hours ago, but it still sat on his desk, tucked away neatly into an envelope. Harry had intended to mail it immediately, but he decided to let Errol rest a bit longer before sending him all the way back to the Burrow; even now, the bird was still sound asleep on Hedwig's perch. So, in the meantime, Harry decided to do a bit more homework, wanting to get it all over with as soon as possible so he could have the rest of the summer off.

When he completed the assigned reading, Harry sat at the small desk to start on his essay about the potion. He pulled out the sheet that Snape had passed out at the end of last term.

 _Write an essay on the origins of the calming draught, which ingredients it is composed of, the steps in the brewing process, and how it is useful. This essay is to be two feet in length, anything shorter will be given a zero._

That seemed easy enough; Harry put the paper down, retrieved a piece of blank parchment, and got to work.

He had been writing intently for about forty-five minutes when a sudden pop came from behind him, causing him to jump slightly. His face reddened, no matter how many times Flower did that, it still startled him.

"Hey Flow-" Harry began as he turned around, but stopped when he saw the elf standing on his bed. Dread gripped him tightly, it wasn't Flower.

"Harry Potter, sir! Dobby has finally found you!" The little creature hopped from foot to foot in excitement.

"D-Dobby? What are you doing here?"

"To warn you, of course. Harry Potter must not-"

"-return to Hogwarts this year, I know. You told me that already," Harry said, cutting the elf off. He knew where this was going, and after what happened last time Harry wasn't about to let it happen again.

"But, Harry Potter sir, there is a terrible plot to harm you. Hogwarts is not safe! You worried Dobby greatly when you were not at Little Whinging, it took him forever to finally find you again! You must listen." The scrawny elf walked across the bed towards Harry, nervously wringing his hands.

"What plot?" He asked, though he already knew what the eccentric elf was about to say.

"Dobby cannot tell you, sir. But you must trust Dobby! It's not safe for Harry Potter sir to return there this year."

"What good is it to warn me about something you can't actually tell me about?! Hogwarts is my home, and I'm going when summer is over whether you like it or not!" Harry said angrily, Dobby had gotten him beaten and locked in his cupboard for two days last time, and he wasn't about to let the elf keep him from the one place where he felt accepted. Dobby's usual hyperactivity disappeared at that last statement, and he hopped down from the tall bed, landing on the wood floors with a thump.

"So, you are telling Dobby that after you stay here, you are going to Hogwarts no matter what Dobby says?" He asked solemnly, all traces of his previous nervous energy gone.

"Yes, I am."

"Then Dobby is sorry about what he has to do," the elf said sadly, before snapping his fingers and popping away.

"Wait!" Harry called frantically, but it was too late; the elf was already gone.

What was that supposed to mean? Panic gripped him as he tried to grasp the implications of the elf's statement; after the fiasco with the dessert being dropped on Uncle Vernon's guests, Harry didn't even want to know what Dobby was going to do to keep him from going to Hogwarts. What if he somehow managed to get him expelled? Was that even possible? He considered telling Snape about the elf, but quickly decided against it; the man would probably think he'd finally lost it.

No, he could handle this himself; for all Harry knew Dobby was crazy. There probably wasn't any real danger at Hogwarts at all; besides, with all of the teachers and Dumbledore there how unsafe could Hogwarts be? Well there had been the whole incident with the Sorcerer's Stone, but how were they supposed to know that Voldemort would be on the back of Quirrell's head?

* * *

Harry was just finishing up the last paragraph of his essay when Snape knocked lightly on the doorframe, letting him know that it was time for dinner. After quickly washing up in the bathroom, he hurried down the stairs to eat. Who knew doing homework could make someone so hungry?

Dinner was a quiet affair, like usual, and Harry was happy that he was able to eat most of the food on his plate, even if he did have to take an appetite stimulant. This was another reason why he was so relieved to be away from the Dursley's, not only did he get to eat, but that also meant he would actually be able to enjoy the opening feast this year. Last year, his body had been so unused to Hogwarts' rich food that he hadn't been able to do much more than pick at his plate, and whatever he did manage to choke down ended up coming back up later that night.

When he was finished eating, Harry took his plate into the kitchen to clean it, walking carefully after what happened at lunch earlier.

"Potter? When you're finished, come back in here for a moment," Snape called from table. Not wanting to annoy the man, Harry hurriedly finished washing his plate before going back to the dining room.

"Yes, sir?" He said meekly, standing in the doorway.

"I wished to inform you that we will be traveling out into the muggle world tomorrow to purchase you some new clothes. I'm sure you've noticed that I did not bring your old clothing from your relatives' house, and we cannot have you borrowing mine until term starts," Snape informed, still finishing his own meal. Harry's eyes widened at the statement.

"I'm getting new clothes?"

"Is that not what I just said? Do I need to assign lines for not listening when you are being spoken to?" Severus, of course, had no intention of actually carrying out the threat. If he was being honest, he didn't know how to react to the boy's incredible look of surprise at being told that he was getting new clothing. Clothing! Something that every child has the right to, and yet here Potter was acting as if Severus had just told him that Christmas had come early. His sarcasm appeared to have no affect on the brat in front of him, who was now smiling like a loon.

"No, sir. Thank you, sir!" The excitement radiated off of the little imbecile in waves, and for a moment Severus was worried that he was about to be hugged again, but the fact that he was still sitting at the table seemed to be his only saving grace.

"If I hear 'sir' one more time, Potter, I'll have you write it three hundred times."

"Good, then that means my penmanship will get even better, right sir?" The boy said cheekily, evidently immune to Severus' snark in his good mood.

Severus rolled his eyes to the ceiling. Bloody Gryffindors.

* * *

Harry rolled over under the covers, wishing himself to go back to sleep. It was much too early for him to be awake, but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't do it, he was too excited. Just to think that in a couple of hours he would be getting new clothes made Harry feel like he was going to explode with happiness, so all hope of sleep was lost. A pale light was just beginning to creep across his floor through the slightly parted curtains, so he still had at least a couple of hours before he would be due at breakfast, but what was he supposed to do until then?

Suddenly, a brilliant idea popped into his head; this would be the perfect time for him to prove to Snape that he wasn't useless, that he could earn his keep. That way, if Harry did a good job, Snape would like having him around enough that he wouldn't send him back to the Dursley's; maybe he'd even let him stay during the next summer too. With a newfound determination, Harry slowly peeled back the blankets and slipped out of bed, careful not to make a sound; Snape did not seem like the kind of person that you would want to wake up before seven in the morning.

After creeping down the hall and the stairs, Harry let himself relax a little now that he didn't have to worry about making the slightest bit of noise. It took him awhile to find where Snape kept the cleaning stuff, but he eventually came upon a small supplies closet in the hall past the stairs. The clock on the wall told him that it was almost six o'clock, so Harry quickly got to work before Snape woke up.

Harry started by wiping down the tables and the mantle above the fireplace, then he cleaned the window sills, and washed the inside of the glass panes. He was tempted to wash the outsides of the windows too, but Harry was pretty sure that Snape had charms on the door that would wake him up as soon as he opened it. After all of that was finished, Harry swept the entire first floor of the manor, excluding the closed doors in the hallway; getting the broom to fit under the dining room table and all of the chairs had been tricky, but he managed it well enough. Now that there wasn't anymore dirt on the floor, Harry retrieved a plastic bucket from the closet and filled it with warm soapy water in the kitchen so he could mop; he had been cleaning for the past hour at least, but hopefully everything would be dry by the time Snape got up for breakfast.

* * *

Severus cracked his eyes open and yawned slightly; despite the fact that he had gone to sleep rather late after brewing, he felt surprisingly rested. It had been a couple of nights since Potter had last woken him up from a nightmare; it was a welcomed break, but that didn't mean the boy wasn't still having them. Severus hoped that the late night silence meant that he was finally getting a full night's rest, but he wasn't sure if that were the case; just the other morning Potter looked like he was going to fall asleep face first into his breakfast. If the nightmares were still persisting, Severus would have to find a way to help the child ease them, if he even could.

After getting up and quickly carrying out his morning routine, Severus strode out of his own room and headed for the guestroom to make sure Potter was awake. He was dismayed to see that the boy's bed was empty, and the child was nowhere to be found; after seeing that the bathroom was also vacant, Severus made his way downstairs. He only got halfway down the steps before he was stopped in his tracks at the sight before him.

At the base of the stairs, he could see Potter on his hands and knees scrubbing at a particularly stubborn mark on the floor besides a bucket of soapy water. The child was still in his pajamas, and was evidently so engrossed in his work that he didn't seem to notice that Severus was there at all. It didn't take him long to realize that the rest of the living room was practically sparkling; the end tables, as well as the coffee table, were gleaming, and the ornate woodwork around the fireplace and mantle was spotless. He resisted the urge to sigh, this wasn't the boy's fault; it was likely years of living with those monsters that had trained him to do this. Deciding that it was time to address this, Severus cleared his throat. Potter's head snapped up at the sudden noise, evidently surprised to see him on the staircase.

"Oh, good morning sir. Sorry, I was trying to have this finished before you woke up," he said sheepishly, blushing at having been caught.

"Good morning, Potter. Would you mind having a seat on the couch with me for a moment?" Severus needed to approach this carefully, he didn't want him to think that he was in trouble, lest he have another panic attack.

"Um, sure," he said before tossing the dirty rag into the bucket, and sitting on the couch. Severus completed the rest of his descent, and sat on the couch across from the boy who was now staring intently at his lap.

"Potter, would you like to tell me why you were up so early cleaning?" Harry kept his gaze on his fingers picking at a loose thread on his pajama pants, suddenly feeling embarrassed. After sitting there in silence for a couple of moments, he shrugged his shoulders.

"I think you do know, and I'd like a proper answer this time. Why were you cleaning?" Snape's tone of voice surprised him, it wasn't harsh or even sarcastic like it usually was, and it sounded like the man was genuinely asking, not demanding an answer.

"Couldn't fall back to sleep," he mumbled, still looking down.

"Okay, that explains why you weren't still in bed when I got up, but that still doesn't answer my question. Why did you feel the need to clean the manor for me?" Harry really didn't want to answer, but he could tell that he didn't have a choice. Now that the man was asking, cleaning sounded like the dumbest idea ever; Snape had a house elf, how could cleaning actually help? Why did he have to be so stupid?

Severus could see that the child was visibly starting to get upset, he had unconsciously began wringing his hands and they looked like they were starting to tremble ever so slightly.

"I was just tryin' to help. M'sorry," Potter said quietly.

"There is no need to apologize. While I do appreciate the hard work you did, it isn't your responsibility to clean the manor. Perhaps I did not make myself clear before, but I only expect you to clean up after yourself and keep your room tidy." The boy finally looked up from his lap at that statement, clearly shocked.

"But sir, how will I earn my keep?" Now it was Severus' turn to be taken aback.

 _Earn his keep? Merlin._

"Potter, you do not have to earn the right to stay here; you're a child, not a house elf. I can assure you that whatever rubbish your relatives filled your head with isn't true."

"What am I supposed to do then?" He asked, confusion apparent on his face.

"Enjoy your break like every other student is right now. While I do expect you to work on your summer assignments, I don't need you slaving away all summer; besides, I already have a house elf. You wouldn't want Flower thinking that you don't think she's doing a good job do you?" Potter's eyes widened considerably at that.

"Oh no, sir! I didn't mean that at all."

"I know you didn't, and I'm sure Flower will understand. So, while I don't want to see you cleaning like this in the future, you did an excellent job." Severus' heart clenched when the boy's face lit up impossibly at the praise.

"Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome. There are some clean clothes on your bed, so go get changed and we'll eat breakfast."

"Yes, sir!" The boy jumped up and raced to his room.

Severus let go of a breath that he didn't realize he had been holding and pinched the bridge of his nose, that had been close; he had nearly driven the child to tears by simply asking a question. If he was going to help create a case against the Dursleys, Severus was going to have to ask a lot more difficult questions, and he didn't have the faintest idea how he was going to do that. Potter seemed to be relaxing a bit, but he immediately clammed up when it came to his relatives. Forcing it out of him was not an option, that would do more harm than good; the boy was probably embarrassed, Severus understood that all too well. The shame of not being accepted by one's own family ran deeper than anyone could ever know, and it hurt right to the core. The thought that the boy likely felt the same dull, constant ache made Severus' heart feel like it was going to shatter.

Making his way into the kitchen, Severus saw that Flower was standing on a chair in front of the stove, already making breakfast. He poured himself a cup of coffee, and added a splash of cream to offset some of the bitterness.

"Good morning, Master Severus!" The elf greeted cheerfully as she flipped a pancake.

"Morning," he replied gruffly, sipping carefully from his mug. He raised an eyebrow at the elf when he saw the breakfast she was making; he could not remember the last time Flower had made pancakes, as he did not usually ingest unholy amounts of sugar in the mornings. "What is the occasion?"

"Well, Flower knows that young master's family did not treat him very well, so she wanted to do something special for him now that he is feeling better." Severus did not usually approve of the rich breakfasts that buried the Hogwarts tables every morning; the endless waffles, pancakes, and gooey pastries made his teeth hurt just looking at them. He didn't allow the members of his own house overindulge like all of the other students did, the less stomach aches and sugar rushing dunderheads in his classroom the better. This time, however, Severus found himself agreeing with the small elf; after all of the trauma Potter had suffered, he hardly minded Flower treating him to some pancakes.

"Thank you, Flower. I'm sure he will appreciate it," Severus said, sipping his coffee as he made his way to the dining room to wait for the brat.

The boy was down some time later, and was thrilled to see the stack of pancakes on his plate. Severus snorted into his mug at Flower's antics, the elf had made a smiley face with whipped cream and lined it with strawberries and blueberries.

"Flower wanted to surprise you now that you've recovered. So no, I did not have anything to do with your sickeningly cheerful breakfast," Severus offered when the boy gave him a questioning look.

"They're brilliant, sir," he said with a huge smile on his face, "I'll have to tell her thank you."

"Yes, that would be polite."

The two of them dug into their breakfasts with gusto, and their plates were clean before they knew it. Though he would never admit it, Severus had missed having pancakes in the morning; they reminded him of the distant Sundays he spent with the Evans family every week before church. Lily had always managed to get syrup in her hair, and she usually threw a blueberry at him when he snickered about it. Severus smiled briefly to himself at the fond memory. It was a stark contrast with the lonely breakfasts that had become normal to him during the long summers he spent at the manor. But it wasn't like that anymore, Severus realized as he watched the child before him eating a stray berry on his plate, and perhaps it was for the better. Severus smirked when he saw the syrup that had somehow gotten in the boy's hair; he truly was Lily's son through and through.

* * *

Harry looked out of the window of the car at the dense trees whizzing by. According to Snape, it was better to drive into town than to try to apparate since there weren't any secure locations away from prying eyes. It was weird seeing the professor drive, and he was surprised that the man even knew what a car was; one of his parents must have been a muggle. They really were in the middle of nowhere, Harry hadn't seen any other houses among the trees as they drove down the dirt road.

"Do you have any neighbors, sir?"

"A few, but we're a couple of miles from each other," he answered, looking at Harry from the rearview mirror.

Harry nodded before he resumed staring out the window. He saw a tunnel that went into a mountain up ahead, and the car continued into it. Harry tried to quell his anxiety as darkness engulfed the car, he never liked tunnels, they made him feel trapped and there was always the worry that it would collapse in the back of his mind. There was a light at the end, and when they finally reached it he gasped; they had emerged into an alley in the middle of the city.

"Sir, what just happened?" He asked, looking around frantically. Behind them was a solid brick wall.

"We just passed through the barrier into the muggle world. It works similarly to the stone column in Kings Cross Station that students use to get to platform nine and three-quarters."

"Oh," Harry said before falling silent again. After about another ten minutes of driving, Snape pulled the car into the parking lot of a rather large department store. Harry undid his seat belt and was about to open the car door, but stopped when Snape turned around in his seat.

"Potter, in front of the muggles we will be posing as father and son. I know its odd, but its the easiest cover to maintain given the circumstances."

"Yes, sir, but what should I call you?" Harry asked, not daring to believe it.

"Dad should suffice. Believe me when I say that this is just as uncomfortable for me as it is for you," the man said dryly before getting out of the car.

Harry tried not to let himself be hurt at the comment as he stepped out of the car and followed the man into the store. Even though he knew that this wasn't real, it was nice to pretend that he was actually going shopping with his dad like all of his other classmates got to. Knowing that this wasn't going to last, Harry decided that he was going to enjoy pretending while he still could, even if it was Snape. He jogged up to the man's side, and took Snape's hand. If he was going to act the part, then he had to look it right? For one terrifying moment, Harry thought that he had made a mistake and that the man was going to shake his hand off, but instead Snape kept his grip, if not tightened it.

* * *

Harry did not think that it was possible for him to be any happier than he was in this moment. Snape was letting him pick out his clothes and everything! The cart was full with pants, shirts, shorts, socks, pajamas, and just about everything else he could even dream of needing, Harry hoped that there would be time for them to visit his vault so he could pay Snape back for all of it.

"Okay Harry, it looks like the last thing you need is shoes."

"'Kay, Dad," Harry said enthusiastically. The word still felt foreign on his tongue, but he loved saying it all the same.

After Harry tried on a couple of different pairs, he found the ones that fit the best and added them to the cart. A few feet away sat the toy aisle, and Harry stared at it longingly for a couple of moments before shaking his head and looking away. He wasn't going to be greedy, Snape was already getting him a lot of clothes to begin with.

Severus had seen the look on the boy's face when he saw the toy aisle, but Potter never said anything; he wasn't really surprised by it either. The child hadn't been given proper clothing in that house, so he seriously doubted he'd ever had any toys of his own. For the record Severus was not going to spoil the brat, he was simply giving him something that he should have had in the first place.

"Go on, we can't have you dying of boredom can we?" Severus said, nodding his head toward the aisle.

"Sir? I mean, Dad?" He asked with a confused look on his face.

"Go pick some things out that you think you would like. You've been well behaved today, so consider it a reward." Potter turned and rushed off so fast Severus couldn't help the small smile that graced his lips.

Harry couldn't believe that the man was letting him get toys of all things, today really was the best day ever. In the midst of the aisle he soon found himself overwhelmed by all of the bright colors and toys displayed cheerfully behind clear plastic. Walking up and down the aisle Harry found that he didn't really know what he wanted, there were so many different choices it was nearly making his head spin.

So this is what Dudley got to do every time Aunt Petunia took them to the store, she'd always made him wait outside the aisle while Dudley picked what he wanted; Harry smiled to himself with satisfaction, now it was his turn.

After carefully looking at all of his options, he eventually decided on a Lego set, and a couple of action figures. When he left the aisle, toys in hand, Harry didn't see Snape anywhere with the cart. The man must be in a nearby aisle, he decided, and began walking through the store looking for his professor. Toys clutched in his hand like a lifeline, Harry found himself becoming increasingly panicked the longer the man was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly Harry stopped abruptly at a terrible realization. He had been tricked. Snape wasn't actually going to buy him all of this stuff; he had been pretending the whole time, and then the man distracted him with the toys so he could leave without Harry noticing. Tears were already welling up in his eyes, and it was becoming harder to breathe. How could he have let this happen again?

 _Harry couldn't find her anywhere. She'd told him to wait for her by deli and that she would come back to get him when she was done shopping, but that had been two hours ago. Now he was frantically walking along the edge of the aisles praying to catch a glimpse of his aunt somewhere. After searching the whole store, his aunt was nowhere to be found, and with a sickening feeling he realized that she had left him behind._

" _Hey kid, the shop's closed. If you're not gonna buy anything get out," a man said gruffly, swinging his keys around his finger. Harry left the store without a word, and desperately looked around the parking lot for his aunt's car, but the lot was empty. With that discovery, Harry finally let the tears fall; she really had left him._

 _It was freezing outside, and Harry was only wearing a t-shirt and some baggy jeans. Rubbing his arms to try to keep warm, he left the parking lot and walked along the road; Harry knew the way home, but it was far. When he was passing a local pub, two men suddenly emerged at started yelling and fighting. Harry had never been so afraid in his life, and he ran away from the brawling men as fast as his little legs would carry him. He ran until it felt like his lungs were about to burst._

"Honey, are you okay?" A female's voice suddenly shook him out of the memory. The employee was a short and plump woman with soft brown eyes, she reminded him of Mrs. Weasley in a way. Harry shook his head sadly, afraid that if he opened his mouth he'd burst into tears.

"Did you get separated from your parents, sweetie?" He nodded, and clutched the toys tighter to his chest.

"Don't worry, we're going to find them. Come on," she said gently. Harry felt bad for the woman trying to help him, she was going to go through all of the trouble trying to find Snape, and he wasn't even in the store. How was he supposed to tell her that the man had left him on purpose?

Harry followed her with tears in his eyes as they made their way to the front of the store, where was he supposed to go now? Did this mean that he would have to go back to the Dursley's? How was he even supposed to get back, Harry had no idea where he was.

Severus was walking quickly through the store trying not to think the worst; he had left the brat in the toy aisle to grab a couple pairs of socks, and now the child was gone. Had he been recognized by a wizard and taken? Had he been abducted by a random muggle? This was all his fault, he should have never left the child alone. Severus had abandoned the cart so he could move faster, and now he was nearly jogging through the store, looking around frantically. Dumbledore was going to kill him, Severus couldn't believe that he had _lost_ Harry Potter, the savior of the wizarding world.

There! The boy was walking behind an employee, Severus had never been so relieved to see the back of that unruly mess of hair.

"Harry!" The boy turned around so quickly Severus thought he was going to give himself whiplash.

"Sir?" Dropping the boxes in his hands, Potter ran and threw himself at Severus, burying his face in the man's stomach. He instinctively returned the embrace around the sobbing boy in front of him.

"Child, what's wrong?"

"I thought you l-left me. That all of this w-was a t-trick," he cried, hugging him even tighter. Severus' heart broke at the boy's tearful admission.

"No I didn't leave you, I simply went to pick up some things of my own while you decided which toy to purchase. I apologize for not informing you; I would never leave you like that, you're stuck with me whether you like it or not," Severus reassured the crying child. Potter didn't say anything, instead he continued weeping miserably into the front of his shirt.

Taking matters into his own hands, Severus picked up the boy and held him securely; surprisingly he didn't resist, instead the small arms wrapped loosely around his neck. He felt himself blush slightly when he remembered the employee who had witnessed the whole encounter. She picked up the toys that Potter had dropped, followed him back to the cart he had abandoned, and placed them in the basket. He mouthed a 'thank you,' and she gave him a warm smile before nodding and walking off to resume her work.

Balancing the boy on his hip, Severus pushed the cart with one hand to the front of the store and quickly paid for everything. When he got to the car, Severus deposited the boy into the passenger seat before loading all of the bags into the trunk. Sitting in the driver seat, Severus turned to Potter who was laying on his side, facing the window.

"Harry, why did you think I left you?"

"You weren't there when I looked for you," he mumbled, throat still thick with tears.

"But you must have known that I hadn't left." The boy shrugged, and didn't say anything to that. A sudden realization made Severus' heart sink.

"Did your relatives ever leave without telling you? Or go home while you were still in a store?" Severus knew he'd hit the nail on the head when his shoulders started shaking as he choked on a sob.

"Harry, look at me please," he said softly. The boy turned around, and emerald eyes met obsidian ones.

"I will never abandon you, or unexpectedly leave again without telling you. I apologize for doing so earlier," Severus said, maintaining eye contact so Harry would know that he was serious.

"S'okay," Harry mumbled, wiping his face with his sleeve. Severus inwardly cringed at that, but decided not to comment.

With a sigh, Severus started the car and began the drive back to the manor; Potter had gone back to facing the window, and remained silent aside from the occasional sniffle. What a mess he had made of things, the boy really was more fragile than Severus had originally thought. How many times did that horse-faced woman purposely leave the child behind to make him that terrified of being alone in public? He gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white, the very thought of it all made his blood boil.

When he pulled into the driveway in front of the manor, Severus noticed that Potter had fallen asleep with his cheek pressed up against the glass; it wasn't that surprising, he had probably been exhausted after that emotional outburst earlier. After opening the trunk and banishing all of the bags to the boy's room, Severus opened the passenger door and lifted the sleeping form off of the seat and took him into the manor; he frowned slightly, the boy really was far too light for his age. Carrying him up the stairs and into the guestroom, Severus gingerly deposited him onto the bed, and covered him with a light blanket.

"Sleep well, child," Severus whispered, brushing the fringe from Harry's forehead before leaving the room.

After making sure that the man had left, the "sleeping" boy smiled blissfully to himself.

* * *

A/N: I wasn't too sure how I felt about this chapter, but I hope you all enjoyed it. I love hearing from my readers, so please leave a review, they mean more to authors than you guys know. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me so far :)


	7. The Nightmare

A/N: Yes yes, I'm alive everyone. I had half of this chapter written for the longest time, and hit a major block. I also started my first year of college so I've been super busy, but hey who knew looming midterms are a great motivator to work on literally ANYTHING else, including your semi-abandoned fanfic lol. Anyway, a bit of a warning in this chapter, as it does briefly mention sexual abuse. Other than that, I hope y'all enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 7

"Arthur, may I come through?" Severus called from the green flames, seeing the Weasley patriarch lounging in a particularly comfortable looking armchair.

"Ah, Severus, of course. Just give me a moment to unlock the floo," he said, folding the newspaper he had been reading. About a minute later, Severus strode from the fireplace into the homey living room; he was still brushing the soot off of his clothes when Molly made her appearance.

"Arthur, dear, I heard the floo ring, who-" When she saw Severus, her eyes widened considerably, then the confusion on her face turned into anger.

"FRED, AND GEORGE GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!" Two pairs of feet thundered down the rickety stairs, revealing the two redheaded twins.

"Really Mum, no need to shout. We-"

"-already gave little ickle Ronnie the antidote. His hair-"

"-should be right as rain in an hour," one of them finished.

"That's not what I'm talking about, why on earth is Professor Snape here over the summer? What did you two do this time?" Molly stood with her hands on her hips with a wooden spoon gripped tightly in her right hand; Severus had no idea where it had come from, but he did not envy the twins in this moment.

"Mum we didn't-"

"-do anything, honest!" As entertaining as it was to see two of Hogwarts' biggest troublemakers get threatened by their mother, Severus decided to step in.

"The twins are indeed telling the truth, Molly. I've come to discuss other pressing matters with both you and Arthur." Her face relaxed as she heard that the twins really hadn't gotten themselves into trouble again, and the wooden spoon returned to the ever accessible pocket on her apron.

"Alright you lot, go back upstairs. I'm sure whatever Professor Snape has to say is not for young ears," she said resignedly. Severus was mildly amused when the two boys puffed out their chests and did a mock salute; Molly rolled her eyes before shooing them back up the stairs.

"Really Mum, I can't believe you thought we managed-"

"-to pull a prank on a professor over the summer. I mean, we're good-"

"-but not _that_ good," Fred snorted before they both trotted noisily up the steps.

"Sorry about that Severus, but you can't really blame me for assuming the worst when it comes to Fred and George," Molly chuckled as she lead them into the living room.

"I understand completely," Severus said smoothly, it certainly wouldn't have been the first time he'd had to talk to the Weasely matriarch concerning the twins' antics. Taking a seat in one of the plush armchairs, Severus settled comfortably against a handstitched quilt that was thrown over the back.

"Tea?"

"Please." Molly hurried to the kitchen and returned moments later with a small tray laden with three teacups, and some biscuits.

"Thank you," he said as she passed him a cup before giving one to Arthur as well. Placing the tray on the coffee table, Molly drew her wand and cast a quick silencing spell around the room before resting on the sofa.

"With seven children, you always have to assume that one is around the corner eavesdropping," she responded to Severus' raised eyebrow.

"So what brings you to the Burrow, Severus?" Arthur asked, sitting beside his wife on the couch with the tea. Severus sipped his drink, and barely repressed a grimace at the incredible amount of sugar that had been added to it.

"Well, I know that Ronald is a close friend of Mr. Potter's, so I have decided that it would be appropriate for you two to be aware of a recent _development_ , for lack of a better word."

"Oh, this is about Harry? He's such a dear. Is everything alright? Ron's been talking my ear off all summer because he hadn't heard from him," Molly asked, worry seeping into her tone.

"Mr. Potter is safe; in fact, he is currently staying with me for the summer," Severus said plainly, might as well rip the bandaid off and get it over with. Both Molly and Arthur nearly choked on their beverages at the statement, Arthur was the first to recover and had the good sense to look embarrassed at his reaction.

"Pardon us, Severus, but how did this come about? I know you aren't exactly fond of children," Arthur stated carefully, not wanting to offend the man.

"I understand your curiosity, I often find myself asking the same question," Severus snorted, taking another small sip of the over sweetened tea. "Albus had originally coerced me into taking the boy in; the meddling old coot knew just what to say to guilt me into it."

"I don't doubt it, that Albus always figures out a way to get what he wants. You should see him trying to get extra pudding after supper when he comes over; he thinks he has me fooled, but after raising seven children I know every trick in the book," Molly laughed sweetly.

"He does indeed," Severus said plainly, he knew better than anyone how manipulative the headmaster could be. Hell, it's what had gotten him in this position in the first place. "Anyway, Albus was questioning the security of the Dursley home from outside threats, so he needed to move Potter to a safer location until the threat was resolved. When I arrived to retrieve the boy, however, what I found was far more concerning than possible ex-death eaters prowling around," he said darkly.

"What do you mean?" Molly asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"I deemed his guardians to be… _unfit_ ," Severus finished after a pause.

"Oh my," Molly put her hand to her mouth. "You don't mean he was mistreated, do you?"

"That would be a severe understatement," Severus said quietly, inwardly bracing himself for Molly's reaction.

Just as Severus had predicted, she promptly burst into tears, and Arthur wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. _Well this could have gone better._ He sat there a bit awkwardly and sipped his drink while Arthur calmed down his wife, Severus had known that this wasn't going to be easy, but it was still difficult to do.

"I'm sorry, Severus. It's just, how could somebody do that to such a sweet child?" Molly sniffed, mopping her eyes with a handkerchief. Severus grimly wondered how many more times he would hear that same question.

"It's quite alright, Molly. I myself was not the most _composed_ when I discovered how Potter was being treated," Severus said cooly, remembering how he'd pinned that horse-faced woman up against the wall with satisfaction.

"So what happens now? If Harry can't stay with his relatives, where else could he go? You know how hard we fought to try to get him to stay with us when Lily and James died, but Albus wouldn't stop going on about those wards," Arthur said, finishing the rest of his drink.

"I can't say that I know," Severus admitted, "Arabella suspects that Albus knew about it, but I would like to think that the great leader for the light wouldn't allow a child to continue to be abused right under his nose."

"Why, if I ever find out that Albus knew about this I would string him up by his-"

" _Molly_ ," Arthur cut her off.

"Sorry," she apologized, cheeks tinted a light pink.

"Don't be, I would be right there helping," Severus said sardonically. "I wanted to ask if you would allow Ronald to come visit Mr. Potter at the manor, as well as permit him to spend some time here this summer."

"Oh, of course, we'd love to have Harry over! We'll treat him just like one of our own," Molly said, smiling warmly.

* * *

Harry woke up feeling loads better than he had been before; stretching contently, he rubbed his eyes as he sat up. He soon noticed a note on the nightstand, and picked it up before quickly reading it.

 _Mr. Potter,_

 _I have gone to the Weasley residence to discuss you and Ronald visiting one another over the summer. I should be back to the manor soon._

 _S.S._

Though he wouldn't admit it, he was grateful that Snape had left a note this time; the man had kept his promise. Harry felt himself color slightly as he remembered what had happened in the store. He couldn't believe that he had cried in front of everyone, that he had cried on Snape! Strangely enough, the man didn't shove him away; instead, he'd hugged him back and then _picked him up_. As unexpected as it had been, Harry loved how it felt to be scooped up into someone's arms and protected, even if they were Snape's. He shook his head in confusion, why was the man being so nice to him?

All of the plastic shopping bags cluttered the floor around his bed, still full of the new clothing that they had purchased. Harry hopped out of bed and began unwrapping everything; this was like Christmas but better! Soon all of the clothing was laying on his bed, but there was still one more bag that had yet to be emptied. Harry furrowed his eyebrows, what else was there?

Grabbing one of the plastic handles, Harry put his hand into the bag and sharply drew in a breath when he felt cardboard. His disbelief increased when he heard the unmistakable sound of small plastic pieces moving as he slid the box from the bag. There, in his grasp, was the Lego set that he had picked out, and the other action figures were also in the bag. He couldn't believe it, Snape had still gotten him the toys. After everything that he'd done, Snape still bought them. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the box with in awe; the bright colors blurred together as tears welled in his eyes. He wasn't really sure what he was feeling, but whatever it was made him feel like he wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

Rapidly blinking the tears away, Harry quickly folded and put away all of his clothes before sitting on the hardwood flooring with the box. He eagerly opened it, and spilled its brightly colored contents out in front of him; retrieving the thin booklet, Harry found the required piece and began putting together the spaceship that was on the front of the box. He snapped another piece into place, and happily looked for the next one.

* * *

Severus stepped through the floo feeling surprisingly optimistic. Molly and Arthur had immediately jumped at the idea of Potter spending time at the Burrow; in fact, they had invited him to come over this Friday. At first, he hadn't been sure if it would be a good idea to throw the boy into the den of Weasleys so soon, lest he become overwhelmed by it all, but he now realised that his concerns were not called for. Severus could tell that Molly absolutely meant it when she promised to make the boy feel at home, and he knew that a sense of family was exactly what the boy needed. He was doing his best to make Potter comfortable here at the manor, but Severus knew it was a far cry from the loving household that the boy obviously required.

He had even informed them about how fragile Potter was, and how he was prone to nightmares and panic attacks, but Molly didn't bat an eye at any of the things that Severus thought may have been a deal breaker for them. Instead she seemed to turn her knowing look on him, and assured him that she could handle it. "I am a mother of seven, after all, Severus. He will be just fine, no need to worry yourself," she had laughed. Severus scoffed at the idea, he wasn't _worried_ ; he had simply been making sure that the Weasley's were aware of the boy's needs; the brat was his legal responsibility after all.

When he reached the boy's bedroom, Severus found him sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed playing with the Legos that he'd purchased. The child's face was filled with the genuine happiness that only the very young seemed to be able to muster nowadays, and Severus simply stood in the doorway observing him for a few moments. The stiffness and worry that often decorated his features were nowhere to be found, and all that was left was an expression of contentment.

Severus cleared his throat to make his presence known, and he immediately regretted doing so. Upon seeing him in the doorway, Potter seemed to withdraw back into the shell he had gingerly crawled out of during Severus' absence.

"Hi, sir," the boy said meekly as if he had been caught doing something wrong.

"Hello, Mr. Potter. Enjoying yourself?" Severus asked casually, trying to ease the child back into the relaxed state he'd found him in.

"Yes, sir," he said with a grin, "I've always wanted to play with one of these sets, but Dudley never let me touch his, even if he never used it." Severus sat on the edge of the bed, while Potter continued to focus on assembling the small pieces.

"Oh, sir, when can I go to Gringotts to get some money from my vault?" Harry asked, looking up from the pieces.

"And why would you need to do that, Mr. Potter? I do hope you've realized that I'm not about to allow you to spend the entirety of your inheritance on sweets," Snape said dryly from the bed.

"I know that, sir, but I need to get some money to pay you back for all of the stuff you bought me today. I thought we were gonna go afterwards, but…" Harry trailed off, embarrassed at being reminded of what had happened earlier.

"While I do appreciate your consideration, that will not be necessary." Harry nearly dropped the pieces he was holding.

"But, but, sir, you used your money today!"

"Perceptive as ever, I see. It's comforting to see your memory isn't fading in your old age," the man said sarcastically.

"But you can't do that! Y-you don't have to-"

"I do believe that it is my decision how I spend my money," Snape cut in. "I am simply providing you with the same amenities that every child has the right to."

"But you spent your money…" Harry said weakly.

"Yes, we've already been over that fact."

"But-"

"No more 'buts.' Tell me this, Potter: did your flubberworm of a cousin ever purchase his own clothing?" Harry worried his lip between his teeth at the question,

"Well, no sir, but that's different."

"How so? Please, do enlighten me."

"Dudley's parents bought him all of that stuff because they love him." He said bluntly, looking back down at the pieces that didn't seem as joyful as they had been before.

Severus winced at the child's tone, the hurt in it was as plain as day; he sat there unsure of how to respond to those sad words. What could he say? Suddenly, Severus saw a single tear fall and land on the hardwood flooring beside his hand that was no longer rummaging through the pieces.

"Why didn't they want me?" He asked tearfully.

Never in all his life had five words made Severus feel as heartbroken as he did now. Soon the drip on the floor was joined by others, and the child on the floor dissolved into tears. Sighing, he slid off of the bed and sat beside Potter on the floor, gently lifting the crying boy onto his lap. Potter's only response was gripping the front Severus's shirt as he continued to sob.

Severus swallowed thickly and looked down sadly at the broken boy in his lap. How had someone so young already seen and felt many of the terrors that this life had to offer? He was mortified to feel tears welling up in his own eyes; this isn't the life that Lily Potter would have wanted for her son. The boy should have grown up surrounded by loved ones, not those sorry excuses for human beings. Severus suddenly found himself wishing that he'd been right about Potter being the spoiled prince he had imagined.

"Because they are blithering idiots, the lot of them," he said quietly, not liking the way his voice wavered slightly over the words. "If they were too blind to see you for the bright child you are, then they never deserved to call you their own in the first place." Severus was surprised to find that he genuinely meant what he was saying; if someone had told him a month ago that he would be sitting on the floor with a distraught Harry Potter on his lap, he would have highly recommended a mental examination at St. Mungos. Potter was still crying miserably, so he didn't know if the boy had even heard him, but Severus had a feeling that he did.

Severus suddenly felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand up; the air was practically crackling with magic. As the boy wailed again, the lights flickered and the room began to tremble slightly; the objects on the desk and the plastic bricks on the floor began to rattle. This was dangerous, Severus realised; accidental magic was unpredictable at its best, and he did not want to find out what was going to happen if he allowed it to reach volatile levels. Usually it was harmless, but with the supposedly most powerful wizard to be born experiencing such intense emotions, Severus wouldn't be surprised if the child blasted a hole in the side of the manor.

"Harry, I need you to try to calm yourself," he said, trying not to let his voice betray the fear he suddenly felt.

Harry was trying his best to stop crying, but it didn't feel possible; it was like a dam had burst, and all of his emotions were flooding out of him. His heart physically hurt, and it seemed that the only way to ease it was to sob harder. He raggedly sucked in a breath in between cries, and fell into a coughing fit.

"C-can't," He choked out as he began to dissolve into fresh tears.

The shaking was gradually becoming more intense, and Severus heard glass shatter behind them. Adrenaline pumping, Severus quickly drew his wand from the holster fastened to his left wrist and summoned a calming draught from his room across the hall. Seconds later, the glass vial whizzed into the room; he caught it and uncorked it in one fluid motion.

Harry felt a glass vial pressed to his lips and he swallowed whatever was being given to him without a second thought. Suddenly a cooling sensation washed over him, and a calm quickly followed it; Harry still felt incredibly sad, but the intensity had ebbed away some.

Severus slowly blew out a breath and rested his head against the footboard as the motion in the room stopped and the static in the air dissipated. That had been close, he didn't know what would have happened if he hadn't reacted as quickly as he did, and frankly Severus didn't want to. Thanking his years as a death eater for his reflexes, he rose his eyebrows in surprise when he saw that the boy was still crying. Severus had never seen the calming draught be outdone by someone else's emotions; the fluxweed oil in the potion was usually more than potent enough to induce a calmed state.

He tightened his hold on the boy and sighed sadly, Severus could only imagine that the child was experiencing the same pain that he had all those years ago. When his father couldn't stomach the sight of him, when he was forced to watch his mother's health deteriorate, when he began taking on the bruises when she no longer could.

It took Severus a few moments to register the silence when it finally came. Looking down, he saw that the boy was silently fidgeting with one of the buttons on the front of Severus' shirt.

"I spoke to Molly about you and Mr. Weasley visiting one another, and she agreed to it," he said suddenly, perhaps a change in subject would help.

"R-really?" He asked, meeting his red-rimmed eyes with Severus' own.

"Yes, in fact she invited you to spend the night this Friday," he said easily.

"Oh," Potter said, sounding surprisingly disappointed.

"What's wrong, child?" Severus asked, eyebrows furrowed. He hadn't exactly been expecting the boy to be jumping with joy after crying for the last half hour, but he definitely had at least hoped that he wouldn't sound like he'd just been assigned a month's worth of detention.

"Did you tell her that I can't go?"

"And why on earth would I do that, Mr. Potter?"

"Because I was bad at the store. I embarrassed you, a-and made a scene," he sniffed, wiping his eyes with his hand.

"You were not 'bad' at the store," Severus said as he summoned a wet cloth. "You were afraid, and no doubt reminded of something rather upsetting, and while I may have been startled, I was not embarrassed." Well, that part may not have been true, but the child didn't need to know that.

"S-so I can go?"

"Yes, child," Severus reassured as he gently wiped the boy's face. "In fact, I highly recommend that you do. From what Mrs. Weasley told me, then I'm sure Ronald will self destruct with worry before the term begins if he doesn't see you."

"Oh, I forgot!" Harry pushed himself off of the man's lap and rushed over to the desk where he knew the envelope had remained from the previous day.

"May I ask what slipped your mind, Mr. Potter?"

"The letter I wrote to Ron. I waited to mail it so Errol could sleep some, but I forgot to send it." Harry saw that the weary owl had already left for his journey back to the Burrow, but Hedwig was still sleeping contently on her perch.

"I see."

"Hey, girl," he whispered as he stroked her feathers. "I need you to take this to Ron at the Burrow for me." The snowy owl blinked lazily at him after being awoken from her nap, and trilled back at him. After playfully nipping Harry's fingers, she took the envelope in her beak and flew out the open window into the summer air.

Turning, Harry saw Snape standing beside the bed observing pieces of glass on the floor. With a sinking feeling, he stepped toward the mess.

"Sir, did I do that?"

"Yes. It appears that some of your accidental magic knocked the glass of water onto the floor while you were upset. Thankfully that is all that happened," he said thoughtfully.

"There is no need to apologize, so stop right there." Harry's mouth had been open to do just that, and he quickly snapped it shut at his professor's statement.

Waving his wand, the glass was in one piece and returned to it's place beside the pitcher on the nightstand.

"So now that you are aware that I have not barred you from the Weasley home, would you like to accept their invitation?"

"Yes, sir! I've never slept over at someone's house before. What should I bring? Do you think I'll be allowed to fly there? I wonder if Bill or Charlie will be home, I know they have jobs and stuff so they aren't always there. Do you think-"

"Enough," Severus said, trying to stem the sudden flood spilling from the child's mouth. He inwardly cringed when the word came out much sharper than he had intended, and the boy's smile fell slightly.

"I understand that you're excited, but isn't physically possible for me to answer every question that falls out of your mouth at once," Severus backtracked, trying to quickly undo the damage done.

"Sorry, sir," Potter grinned.

"Now, try again in such a manner where I will not have to be concerned that you will choke to death on your own tongue."

* * *

Harry sat at his desk writing intently; he had decided that instead of drawing out his summer assignments during the break, he was going to finish them as soon as he could. He had already finished most of his essays, and now he was nearly done with the last one. Harry had been working for the last day and a half straight, only stopping to come down for meals before going right back up to his room. After writing so much, Harry already felt much more comfortable using a quill; it wasn't perfect, but he could tell that his handwriting was looking a lot better. As he finished the final sentence of his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay, Harry realised what a mess his work space was; his desk was strewn with parchment, rubrics, quills, and a couple of books. Several textbooks sat open on the floor, and others were stacked beside his chair.

He gathered the books up and put them back in their places, before tidying up the rest of his desk. Smiling proudly, Harry picked up the stack of parchment, and made his way down the hall toward Snape's study. His professor was at his desk reading a particularly thick volume, and taking notes in a leather bound journal beside him. He stood there for a moment, reluctant to disturb the man.

"What did I say about hovering, Potter?" Snape said without looking up from his work. Harry entered the study clutching his essays, at first it had seemed like a good idea to ask the man to review his work, but now all of his confidence had disappeared, what if the man graded them as harshly as he did last year? Standing in front of the large desk, Harry felt incredibly small.

"Sorry, sir. I didn't want to bother you," he admitted shyly.

"You are never a bother, Mr. Potter. Now, what did you need?" Snape said, placing his quill down onto the desk.

"I, um, wanted to know if you could read these for me," Harry said, handing the man the thick stack of parchment. "You don't have to, sir, if you don't want to."

"What's this?"

"My summer homework, I just finished it."

Severus' eyebrows rose in surprise as he thumbed through the pages, he had expected two essays at most, but the child really had finished all of the summer work from last term. That explained why the boy didn't leave his room for anything other than meals yesterday.

"I'll go over these when I finish my work," Severus said, setting the pile aside. "Now go enjoy your break, Merlin knows you've earned it."

"Can I go flying?"

"Yes you may, just stay within ward's boundaries."

"Thanks, sir!" The boy said before rushing out of the room. Severus shook his head in amusement, it was about time the child did something other than clean and do homework. Picking up the quill once more, Severus resumed taking notes from the ancient tomb; if his hunch was correct, he may be on his way to discovering how to brew a much more effective wolfsbane potion that would allow its user to remain aware throughout transformation. Such a breakthrough would be legendary; it could prevent afflicted witches and wizards from attacking their own family members, which unfortunately was often the case.

Despite how close Severus believed he was to a breakthrough, he could not help his focus being drawn to the haphazard pile of parchment that sat beside him on the desk. Shaking his head, Severus went back to reading the faded lines discussing the different phases of transformation and symptoms that follow each one, while scrawling down possible reagents that could counter them. He only lasted for about another page or so before Severus irritably threw down his quill, and snatched the sheets of parchment from the desk.

* * *

Harry grabbed his broom out of the closet and hurried through the kitchen and out the screen door into the backyard. Mounting the broom, he struck the ground with his foot and off he went, soaring high into the sky. He circled the manor a few times before leaning forward and diving sharply, wind whipping through his hair as he got closer and closer to the ground. Not a moment too soon Harry pulled the broom up to stop himself from crashing, making his stomach flip wonderfully and sending adrenaline shooting through his veins. Oh how he had missed this.

Laughing freely, Harry sent himself soaring back up into the sky only to go into corkscrews on his way down, once again pulling the broom up at the last possible second. He sped between the rows of apple trees only a few feet from the ground, relishing every moment of exhilaration as the leaves passed in a green blur. It wasn't long before Harry was jetting back into the sky as fast as he could once more.

After doing more dives than Harry could care to count, he flew high above the manor and hovered where he was, admiring everything around him. Tall green trees spread out as far as the eye could see, their density decreasing only around the looming mountains that sat miles away. Panting and sweaty, Harry watched as the sun began to set behind one of the tall peaks, making the shadows lengthen as the golden light started to fade. He flew around the property leisurely, having expelled his bursts of energy earlier; for the first time since leaving the Dursley's Harry finally felt free.

When darkness began the fall, Harry reluctantly descended toward the ground. His leg and back muscles were screaming, but it had been worth it, it always was. Wearily trudging toward the manor, he drug his broom behind him.

" _Ow! Watch where you're going!"_

Harry jumped at the sudden voice, squinting he saw a small snake underneath the bristles of his broom.

" _I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. Are you hurt?"_ Harry apologized.

" _A ssspeaker, hmm? How interesssting. I am injured, but it is no fault of your own; a nasssty owl nearly made me hisss lunch."_ The snake twisted its body and revealed a painful looking gash that ran down its side, Harry felt bad for the snake, and sincerely hoped Hedwig hadn't been the cause of that.

" _Why don't you come inside with me? The person I'm staying with should have some medicine that would help, if you would let me pick you up I can take you right to him."_ The snake seemed to contemplate it for a moment before readily agreeing, though Harry didn't want to say it, he was sure that the snake wouldn't have lasted the night with an injury like that. Placing his hand on the ground, the snake slithered into his palm and securely coiled itself around his wrist.

" _Carefully young ssspeaker."_ Harry gingerly continued with the snake in one hand and his broom in the other, tucking the broom under his arm, Harry was able to twist the knob on the back door. Having just put his broom away, Harry heard Snape coming down the stairs.

"You were gone for quite some time, did you have a nic-" Seeing the snake the child was holding, Severus swore that his heart had stopped.

"Potter put that down," he said in a forced calm as he drew his wand. That particular breed of snake was extremely venomous, one bite was more than enough to take down a full grown man; he didn't even want to think about what it would do to a small boy like Potter.

"Why? What are you gonna do?" He asked, drawing the snake closer to himself when he saw Severus' wand.

"Put. It. Down." Severus said strickenly as he pointed his wand toward it.

"But sir, she's hurt!" Harry exclaimed, he didn't know what the man was going to do to her, but he had a bad feeling about it.

" _Ssshould I bite him? I don't like the way he's pointing that thing at me."_

" _No, I won't let him hurt you I promise."_

Severus' eyes widened in disbelief as he heard the hissing coming from the child's mouth, sending sickening shivers down his spine. He had only heard that language uttered from one other person before, and that was the Dark Lord himself.

"Sir, she's really hurt. Can't you give her some kind of medicine to help?" Severus' head was still spinning at the sudden revelation that Potter was a parselmouth. Lowering his wand, Severus contemplated what to do. If the snake hadn't bitten the boy yet, it probably wasn't going to, and he certainly wasn't about to force the boy to send the snake to its death by throwing it back outside, especially if he was able to talk to it.

"Bring it into the kitchen while I go fetch some things."

Harry let out a breath of relief, for an awful moment he thought that Snape was going to kill her. He walked into the kitchen and waited for the man by the sink.

" _Sorry about that, I think you scared him."_

" _I scared him? I thought he was going to kill me with that stick of his,"_ she scoffed, well if snakes could scoff Harry supposed. Moments later, Snape reappeared with two small vials in his hand.

Saying Severus was reluctant to get anywhere near the deadly snake would be a severe understatement. He resisted the urge to shudder when Potter hissed at the snake for a few seconds.

"She promised that she won't bite you, sir." Well that was hardly reassuring, but it was all he had to go on at this point. With slightly shaking hands, Severus uncorked one of the vials and drew some of the liquid into a dropper.

"This is for the pain," he said, and the boy relayed his message to the snake that now sat on the counter. Severus carefully positioned the tip of the dropper in front of the snake's mouth, half expecting it to strike him, but it never did. Instead, it flicked its tongue into the droplet hanging off of the tip several times. Next, he uncorked the vial containing the healing potion.

"This will heal the cut, but it's going to sting slightly," Severus warned, the last thing he needed was to startle the snake and get one of them bitten. Again Potter relayed the message, and he drew up more liquid into the dropper. The snake contorted its body to reveal the deep slice in her scales, and Severus let several drops fall onto the wound. Her body tensed as the muscle restitched itself together, and after a few moments she relaxed again.

"Alright, that should do it," he said, recorking the vials.

" _How do you feel?"_ Harry asked.

" _Wonderfully, thank you, young ssspeaker. If it weren't for you, I don't think I would have made it. Tell the angry man that I am grateful for hisss help."_ Harry laughed at that, and allowed her to crawl back into his hand.

"She says she's grateful for your help, sir."

"Tell her that I say you're welcome when you put her back outside," the man said pointedly as he left the room to put his things away. Taking the hint, Harry headed out the backdoor and down the porch steps. Crouching down, he let the snake slither from his hand and onto the ground.

" _Thank you again, young ssspeaker."_

" _You're welcome,"_ Harry said as the snake began to leave. _"Wait, what's your name? In case I ever see you again."_

" _My kin call me Seleyss. I am sure our paths will cross again."_ With that the snake disappeared into the night, slithering away from the manor.

* * *

Severus put the vials back on their appropriate shelves before running a hand through his hair with a shaky breath; he definitely could use a finger or two of firewhiskey after that. He could only thank Merlin that the foolish child hadn't been bitten, and with a disturbing realization he remembered that he didn't have any antivenom in stock at the moment. That fact would definitely be taken care of after some brewing tonight.

He would have to talk to Albus about the boy being a parselmouth, but that could wait until he talked to him about the Dursley's abuse. Severus had decided not to bring it up until the term began so he could at least give Potter the summer to recover before he had to go through that hellish legal battle. The boy deserved to just be a child for once, instead of some saviour that the whole wizarding world depended on. Besides, waiting until the term began gave him more time to learn as much as he could about how those beasts treated him; Severus knew it wouldn't be easy to get the information out of him, but the more evidence he had to pin on the Dursley's the better.

When Severus emerged from his lab, he saw that Flower had already served dinner and that Potter was evidently waiting for him, as the boy had yet to touch his food.

"While I appreciate you waiting for me, if I am not at the table in the future do not feel the need to. I may have a potion that I cannot leave unattended or other business I need to take care of," Severus said. Knowing Potter, he would likely sit there for hours until Severus showed up.

"Yes, sir," Potter said before digging into his food.

After eating for a few minutes in silence, Severus disrupted it.

"I read your essays while you were out flying, and I'm pleased to say that you did rather well." Truthfully, Severus had been extremely impressed by the drastic improvement in the boy's work compared to that of last year; not to mention his penmanship was much better, but there was no need to let the child get a big head.

"Really?" The boy smiled with such happiness of his face that Severus felt his heart clutch.

"Yes, really. I put them back onto your desk in your room. I wouldn't get too cheeky yet, Potter. Now that I know you're capable of such work, I'll expect it from you from now on." The child didn't even seem phased by the statement, instead he seemed to smile even bigger if that was humanly possible.

* * *

Later that evening, Harry was in his room trying not to freak out as he rummaged through his desk drawers. Where was it? Where was it? Moving parchment and old quills around, he prayed that he would find the small book hiding under all the clutter, but to his disappointment he didn't. If he had lost that Anne of Green Gables book, Harry knew that Snape was going to be livid. Hadn't the man said that it was one of the books he'd read as a kid? Oh, Snape was going to kill him. Slamming the drawer shut, Harry hastily opened the next one below it and began searching through it, anxiety increasing with every moment he couldn't see it.

It didn't make any sense, he never took it out of the room, so how could it have just disappeared? Harry clearly remembered always leaving it on the nightstand when he had the casts on so he could read it, and then putting it with the other books Snape had given him that lined the top of the desk's hutch. Now, no matter how many times he looked through the titles etched on the old spines, he could see that the green book simply wasn't there. Harry took a deep breath, trying to soothe his nerves; it was fine, he had time to find it. If Snape came looking for it, he could just say that he hadn't finished it yet, which technically wasn't a lie.

After tearing through every possible place the book could be in his room, Harry still came up with nothing. He sat on his bed, putting his head in his hands; where ever it was, Harry prayed it was in one piece.

* * *

Severus' eyes snapped open as he laid in his bed. Something had woken him up, but he wasn't exactly sure what it had been; he strained to hear something in the silent manor. That's when he heard a muffled whimper across the hall; he sighed, Severus had known that the last few nights of silence wouldn't last forever. Getting out of bed, he walked to Potter's room expecting to see the boy trapped in the middle of a nightmare, but instead he saw that the boy was awake. Sitting up against the headboard, Potter had his face buried in a pillow that he clutched in his arms; with how much his shoulders were shaking, Severus could only assume the boy was crying.

"Harry?" Severus said softly, not wanting to startle him. The boy looked up, revealing his tear streaked face. "Did you have a nightmare?" He only nodded in response, and hugged the pillow tighter. "I know you may not want to, but talking about it will help. It isn't good to keep it all bottled up inside, believe me," Severus added, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I c-can't," Harry choked out. He wanted to tell the man, to share his burden with someone else, but the very idea of the man knowing what had happened in that doctor's office made him want to die of embarrassment.

"Okay, if you can't tell me, why don't you show me instead," Severus said, suddenly having an idea.

"H-how can I do that?" The boy asked, rubbing his eyes with his hand.

"I can use occlumency to see the dream that you had, so you don't have to explain it. Would you like that instead?" Severus saw the boy struggle to decide for a few moments, but he ultimately nodded.

"Okay, now I need you to relax and look into my eyes." Once the boy had done that Severus continued, " _Legilimens."_

Locating the dream in Potter's mind wasn't very difficult, as it was still at the forefront of his mind. Similarly to that of a pensieved memory, Severus stepped into the dream himself.

When the fog cleared, Severus saw that he was standing in the middle of a waiting room in a pediatrician's office. In the corner of the room sat a young Harry Potter that couldn't have been more than eight years old, and a brute of a man Severus could only assume was the boy's uncle. While other children entertained themselves with the blocks on the floor, Harry sat watching them longingly, but didn't dare to say anything. Suddenly, a nurse called them and Harry and his uncle got up to see the doctor. Severus followed behind them into the doctor's office where he was waiting for them.

Severus didn't like the dread that was beginning to pool in his stomach, he hoped to Merlin that the boy simply had an irrational fear of needles or tongue depressors, but he had a feeling that that wasn't the case.

"Ah, Vernon. It's nice to see you again," the doctor said as he shook his hand. Severus saw the sleight of hand, along with the bills of money the man slipped Harry's uncle through the handshake. With that, Severus began to feel sick.

"And you as well," Vernon replied gruffly, casually stuffing his right hand into his pocket. "Behave, freak. I'll be in the waiting room when you're done," he said before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Alright, Harry. Are you ready for your checkup?" The doctor said in a sickening tone. As much as Severus did not want to watch what was about to happen, he forced himself not to look away.

When it was over, Severus stepped out of Harry's mind and came back to himself where he sat on the bed.

"Harry, was that a memory?" Severus whispered, steeling himself to remain composed. With the amount of detail that the dream had, he was nearly certain that it was, but he had to be sure.

When the boy nodded, Severus couldn't stop himself before he scooped the child up in his arms and hugged him tightly. Harry responded only by returning the embrace and continuing to cry.

"You're never going back to that house, Harry, I promise. None of that was your fault, I'm so sorry," Severus could not stop his own tears from blurring his vision as he held the broken child in his arms. Harry continued to cry for some time before eventually crying himself to sleep. When the boy finally settled, Severus tucked him back into bed before he made his way back into his room.

He poured himself a glass of firewhiskey to calm his nerves, but the liquor did nothing for his churning stomach. Running to the bathroom attached to his room, Severus was helplessly sick, throwing up everything in his system. Shakily wiping his mouth and rinsing it out with water, he got back into bed and put his hands over his eyes. What had the boy down to deserve any of this? He thanked Merlin that Harry hadn't been raped, but what had happened hadn't been much better.

Severus laid awake, unable to get his mind to settle. It was only many hours later did sleep take pity on him.

* * *

When Severus finally cracked his eyes open the next morning, he felt like he had been drug three miles by a herd of hippogriffs. It was still early, but he could already tell that his body wasn't going to let him sleep in any later. After dragging himself out of bed, and getting dressed, Severus stopped in the doorway of the boy's room and was pleased to see that he seemed to be sleeping rather peacefully. He went down stairs and into the kitchen to make himself some coffee, perhaps the caffeine would clear his mind some.

Flipping on the lights in the kitchen, Severus opened a cupboard and retrieved the can of coffee grounds. When he picked the can up, Severus frowned when he heard something fall over that had evidently been leaning up against it. Reaching farther back on the tall shelf, he felt around for what it had been until his fingers met paper.

 _What on earth?_

Severus grabbed whatever it was and took it down so he could see what it was. For a moment, he couldn't believe what he was looking at, but it didn't take long for his disbelief to be replaced with anger. There, in his hands, was the Anne of Green Gables book he had lent Potter. The cover was torn and all of the pages were crinkled as if the whole book had been submerged in water and then poorly dried; when he thumbed through some of the pages, he was even more infuriated to see dirt fall out. Not only had the boy carelessly destroyed something that was dear to him, he even had the nerve to hide it from him!

As he was holding it, the last few pages fluttered onto the floor and landed on the tile. Angrily tossing the book onto the counter, Severus bent down to retrieve the crinkled leaflets. The yellowed pages were blank, as the last couple of pages in a book often were, but on the other side was the smudged handwriting that Severus had committed to memory.

 _Happy birthday Sev,_

 _I hope you had a great one, and you enjoyed this book as much as I did. Did Anne remind you of a particular redheaded someone? Hahaha, happy birthday big nose._

 _Love, Lily_

Severus looked over the wobbly handwriting a few more times before briskly folding the paper, and slipping it into his pocket. He couldn't possibly imagine what excuse Potter was going to come up with the explain the ruined book, but for his sake it better be a damn good one.


	8. The Culprit

A/N: Hello everyone, no I'm still not dead, just a busy college student. Sorry this took so long to get out to you guys, I have written two other chapters that are not chronologically ready to be added to our adventure. So I guess it will speed up posting later down the road. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, and if you do please leave a review! :)

* * *

Chapter 8

When Harry finally made it downstairs and to the table for breakfast, his stomach was in knots. He'd woken up feeling rather calm until the events from the previous night flooded into his mind. Seeing the promised nutrition potion beside his plate, he drank it down with only a slight grimace.

Snape wasn't in the dining room yet, and Harry nervously eyed his empty chair at the head of the table. This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? Confiding in the man had seemed like a good idea at the time, Harry had hoped it would take some of the weight off of his shoulders, but now he was starting to regret it. What if the man told people? What if all of Slytherin found out? Panic gripped him at that last thought, Harry didn't think he could handle that.

"Morning, Mr. Po-"

"You're not gonna tell anyone, right?" Harry blurted as the man came into the room carrying their plates.

Severus was rather taken aback by the sudden outburst, and from the looks of it, the child had worked himself into quite a state during his absence.

"Are you referring to last night's events, and your nightmare?" Severus asked noncommittally, placing the food on the table and taking a seat. The boy blushed, and nodded, suddenly interested in the scrambled eggs on his plate. Severus sighed, he couldn't really blame the boy for his fear; he could hardly believe that Potter had confided in him in the first place. He could only imagine the inner turmoil the boy was facing now.

"I understand how difficult it was to share that memory with me; and I'm pleased that you trusted me enough to do so." Severus paused, trying to decide how to continue carefully. "Much like everything else that I've learned about your treatment by your relatives, I can assure you that I will not share that information with anyone unless it is pertinent. If I were speaking to authorities, for instance," Severus added when he saw the confused look on his face.

"Authorities?"

"Well, yes, Potter. You didn't seriously think those beasts were going to get away with what they had done, did you?"

"I guess I never thought about it, really. All of it just seemed so… I mean, after a while I thought it was…"

"Normal," Severus supplied, when the boy trailed off. Potter nodded, cheeks flushing.

"There isn't any reason to be embarrassed about feeling that way. When it's how you grew up, you don't know any different. Believe it or not, I once found myself in a similar position." The words left his mouth before Severus could think better of it. He had been trying to offer some words of comfort, but had instead revealed much more than he had intended.

Harry's eyes widened as he understood the implications of his professor's words.

"Y-you did?" He couldn't believe it.

"Yes, I did," Severus said with a sigh, accepting that it was much too late to salvage his reputation at this point anyway. The boy seemed to contemplate his words for a couple of moments before taking a tentative bite of his eggs.

"I won't tell anyone, I promise." To his surprise, Severus found himself believing the child. Perhaps the lapse in his judgement wasn't such a tragedy after all; maybe the child would feel more at ease knowing that he wasn't alone.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter." Severus fell silent, cutting his eggs with the side of his fork. "I've decided to create an addition to the rules that I expect you to follow," he added after a couple of bites.

"And what's that, sir?" Seeing the child's evident anxiety, Severus was quick to continue.

"If anyone, and I mean _anyone_ , tries to hurt or take advantage of you, I expect you to fight back," Severus said tightly, he would not allow the child to simply accept abuse, or think it was okay any longer.

"Sir?"

"Whether it's a student, or even a teacher, I want you to do to everything you can to get away and protect yourself. Scream, kick, punch, scratch, do everything you can. Do you understand?" Severus maintained eye contact to ensure the boy knew how serious he was.

"And I won't get in trouble for it?" Harry asked cautiously, remembering the whackings he'd gotten when he defended himself against Dudley and his friends.

"You will get into trouble if you do not."

"Really?"

"Really," Severus said dryly before returning to his breakfast. He still needed to figure out how to approach the subject of the book he'd found wedged behind the can of coffee grounds. He was still angry, but his morning cup of coffee had thankfully brought him down from being downright livid. The last thing he wanted to do was blow up at the boy, and take fifteen steps backward. Taking one last calming breath, Severus attempted to breach the subject.

"How are you liking the books that I lent to you, so far?" He asked nonchalantly before taking another sip of coffee.

"Oh, uh, they're good sir," The boy said, his voice jumping several octaves.

"You started with Anne of Green Gables, did you not? How are you liking it? I was particularly fond of that one myself," Severus said after a sip of his third cup of coffee that morning.

"I like it, but I'm uh- not finished with it yet," Harry said timidly, he was failing at keeping a calm front and he knew it. Oh Snape was going to be mad, and the thought of it made Harry want to run up to his room and lock himself in the wardrobe.

Severus could see the guilt on the child's face easily, he really was quite an open book.

"Do you have something that you'd wish to tell me, Mr. Potter?" Severus kept his voice at a forced calm, that often had a more terrifying effect, he knew, for a guilty party.

Harry was wrestling with himself as he sat in his chair. He knew he should just tell the man and get it over with, but it wasn't his fault the book just disappeared! Harry sighed, he had the feeling that Snape somehow knew already, considering he brought it up. He just hoped the man wouldn't punish him that bad; he knew Snape said he wouldn't hit him, but the book had been special! Surely, that would change the man's mind.

"Yes," he breathed, tears already welling in his eyes.

"And what would that be, Mr. Potter?"

"I can't find it. Sir, I'm sorry, but I can't find it! I left the Anne of Green Gables book in my room, I never took it out, honest, but it's gone!" Severus rose an eyebrow at the boy who was fighting back tears. This hadn't been what he was expecting at all; why was the boy still trying to hide what he'd done?

"A-and I know that it was r-really special to you when you were a kid, and I tried to take good care of it, I really did. It's just gone," the boy cried, having lost the battle with the tears in his eyes.

Severus didn't know what to do, the boy did appear to be telling the truth. Many years of teaching children and his occlumency skills made him much more than proficient in telling whether someone was lying or not. Hell, his very life depended on it during his time as a spy. As much as the crying boy before him tugged at his heart, there was no other logical explanation for how the book got destroyed, so the boy must have been responsible.

"Do you not recall what I told you about lying to me, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked, his instincts screaming in protest.

"But, I'm not lying, sir! I really don't know where it is!"

"Then would you perhaps like to shed some light on this?" Reaching into his pocket, Severus unshrunk the destroyed book and tossed it into the table in front of the boy.

Harry gasped at the book before him in utter horror, it was completely destroyed.

"Sir, I-I didn't do this." Just seeing the warped pages and dirt that had fallen out of it and onto the table made Harry want to cry harder; he had liked the book too.

"I do not appreciate you lying to me, Potter, and unless you want your little excursion to the Burrow to be canceled, I suggest you take responsibility for your actions."

"I would take responsibility if I actually did it!" Harry yelled, losing his temper. "You act like you know everything, but you DON'T." He stood abruptly, knocking his chair over behind him.

"Potter, _sit down_ -"

"NO! THIS ISN'T FAIR! WHY DO I ALWAYS GET IN TROUBLE FOR STUFF I DIDN'T DO?" Harry yelled, angrily scrubbing the tears from his face. "THIS IS JUST LIKE THE DURSLEY'S!" Before Severus had the chance to respond, the boy ran out of the room and up the stairs; several seconds later he heard a door slam shut.

Severus grit his teeth, staring at the chair that was laying on its side. He took both of their plates to the kitchen, and righted the chair before making his way down to his lab for some peaceful brewing. Maybe then he'd be able to figure out what the hell was going on.

* * *

Harry laid in his bed with the covers pulled up over his head, tears still running down his face. Why didn't Snape believe him? How had the book gotten ruined anyway? The only people in the manor were Snape, Flower, and himself; if he hadn't done it, that left Flower, but he knew the house elf wouldn't do it either. Harry threw the blankets down and sat straight up in bed when a realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

 _Dobby!_

That had to be it, who else could it have been? Suddenly the conversation from the other day flitted through his mind.

" _So, you are telling Dobby that after you stay here, you are going to Hogwarts no matter what Dobby says?"_

" _Yes, I am."_

" _Then Dobby is sorry about what he has to do."_

Harry felt the blood rush to his feet as he considered Dobby's wording of the question; the elf was trying to get him sent back to the Dursley's.

* * *

Severus was standing at his lab bench cutting dandelion roots, trying to convince himself that he had done the right thing, but the harder he tried the more certain he was that he had made a mistake. All common logic pointed toward a guilty child trying his best to get out of trouble; only he, the boy, and Flower were in the manor, and Severus knew that Flower would sooner beg for clothes than purposely ruin something of his. Besides, Potter was a twelve year old boy, whom of which are not known for their gentle care of reading materials if his many years of teaching was anything to go by.

But every time Severus neared the conclusion that Potter was definitely responsible, those green tear-filled eyes and the boy's look of disbelief would flash back into his mind. He had a feeling something was wrong, his gut had never led him wrong in his days as a spy, and Severus had a feeling it wasn't going to start now. But what could he do now? He had already accused the boy, and going back on it would only complicate things even further. Severus could already feel the beginnings of a migraine coming on.

Severus sharply inhaled at the pain that suddenly flourished across his hand. Looking down he saw that he had mistakenly brought the keen knife down on the side of his index finger, and blood had already begun to contaminate the fresh roots.

 _What an idiotic thing to do, here I am cutting myself like an incompetent first year._

Holding his left hand away from his clothes, Severus put down the knife and turned to open the door to his potion stores behind him. He kept an abundant amount of first aid potions at hand in case a volatile potion exploded, which wasn't as uncommon as Severus wished, even with his expertise. A simple healing salve should do the trick, and then he could get back to restocking his ingredients; all of these plans faded from his mind, however, when he tugged the heavy door open.

It looked as though someone had swept the shelves clean with their arm, knocking all of the vials on the floor. A mixture of glass and various liquids covered the cobblestone within the closet, and a faint trail of smoke was wafting into the air as the different chemicals mixed. Upon further inspection, Severus saw footprints tracked through the mess and toward the stairs, growing fainter the further they were from the door. On a shelf to his right, Severus saw a clump of black hairs among the few glass bottles that still remained upright. Rage surged through his veins like poison at the mess before him, weeks of work sat ruined on the floor and a vast majority of those vials had been meant for the infirmary at Hogwarts.

Severus couldn't believe he had almost cleared Potter of all blame of ruining that precious book. That boy wasn't going to leave his room for the rest of the summer, let alone visit the Weasleys. He slammed the door so hard he heard a few more vials fall to the floor, but he didn't care. Hand still bleeding, Severus stalked toward the metal spiral staircase, but his foot stopped on the first stair as something dawned on him.

He never told Potter where his laboratory was located.

Severus' eyebrows stitched together at the thought; he hadn't told him the password that replaced the contents of the pantry with a staircase, and he was certain that the boy never saw him use it, in fact he had purposely ensured it. He frowned and turned back to the smashed contents of his potion stores, the hair on the shelf appeared to have been planted there, not accidentally left by the culprit, there was far too much of it there for it to have been accidental. Gears turning, Severus turned his attention back to the footprints on the cobblestones; they were angled rather oddly, and the length of the stride was irregular. Yes, something was definitely going on here, and Potter obviously wasn't responsible for it.

If he hadn't destroyed his potions, then was it possible that he had been telling the truth when he tearfully admitted to losing the book rather than destroying it? Perhaps the book hadn't been lost, but stolen.

* * *

Harry was pacing in his room, unsure of what to do. Maybe he should just tell Snape about Dobby, but he highly doubted that the man would believe a word of it. Tears welled in his eyes again, if things like this kept happening Harry would be surprised if he got to stay here for more than another week. He sat on the edge of the bed, and tried to breathe through the panic attack that was threatening to take over.

What would he do when lunch came around? What if something else happened and Snape still doesn't believe him? Snape was going to yell at him. Snape was going to send him back. He was going to send him back, and Harry was never going to see this manor again. He was never going to see Flower again. Snape was going to treat him just like he used to when Harry went back to Hogwarts.

Harry's breath hitched at the last thought, and he dissolved into fresh tears again.

* * *

Severus grimly climbed the stairs towards the guest bedroom. What a mess he had created. Severus had wanted to avoid losing progress with Potter by blowing up at him, but instead the boy had yelled at him and they had taken several steps backward anyway. He shook his head, this is what he got for ignoring his instincts.

Hand on the silver knob, Severus stilled when he heard the heartbroken sobs on the other side of the door; guilt writhed in his stomach at the sound. Sighing, Severus pushed the door open.

"Potter-"

"Please don't send me back! I know y-you think that I'm bad and that I ruined your stuff-"

"Potter," Severus tried again, but the sobbing boy sitting on the bed continued rambling.

"-and I'll do anything. Just please don't make me go back. I don't want you to hate me again!" Severus approached the bed and placed two of his fingers under the boy's chin, forcing him to raise his head and meet his steady gaze.

" _Harry_." The use of his first name seemed to catch his attention.

"What?" He asked miserably, seemingly terrified of what Severus had to say.

"Did you lose your trainers?"

"Huh?" The boy asked, confusion quickly replacing the misery on his face.

"Did you misplace your shoes?"

"I, uh, c-couldn't find them after I went flying yesterday, but when I found them under my bed this morning. Why, sir?" Potter sniffed, and wiped his eyes with his hand. Severus inwardly cringed at that, but decided against saying anything, at least it wasn't his nose.

"May I see them?"

"O-okay," he said, voice still wavering from the tears. Getting on his hands and knees, Harry grabbed the shoes from under the bed. He wasn't sure why Snape hadn't started yelling at him about the book yet, or why the man wanted his shoes in the first place.

Severus plucked the shoes from the boy's hands and turn them over, scrutinizing their soles.

"Am I in trouble, sir?"

He ignored the question for the moment as he inspected the textured rubber. There was a dark sticky substance coating the bottoms that matched the color of the mess of potions from his stores. Severus brought one just close enough to his nose the catch a whiff of the pungent sage, confirming his suspicions.

"Quite the opposite, actually," Severus said, turning the shoes over again. "Do you see this dark purple substance?"

"Yeah. What is it? I don't remember stepping in anything gross like that," Harry said, wrinkling his nose.

"That's because you didn't. This muck is a mixture of an array of potions that I found smashed on the floor of my stores," Severus said tightly, trying his best not to let his anger flare. The boy's face paled considerably at that.

"Sir, I swear I didn't-"

"Hush, child, I know you didn't have anything to do with it. Do you even know where my potions lab is?"

"N-no."

"Then how could you possibly be responsible?"

The boy shrugged and quietly muttered, "You got mad at me for the book, and I didn't do that either." Returning the shoes to the boy, Severus pinched the bridge of his nose; loathe as he was to admit, Potter did have a point.

"I apologize for that Potter, I am now rather certain that whoever is responsible for destroying weeks of my work is also the one who ruined the book."

"S'okay, I would have thought that it was me too," Harry admitted, relieved that the man finally believed him. Suddenly, a question popped into his mind that he'd wondered since first arriving at Hogwarts. "Why do you call me 'Potter'?"

"It is your name, is it not?"

"Well, yeah, my last name, but why do all the professors call kids by their last names anyway? They never did that in primary school." His potions professor shrugged at the question.

"That's just the way it's always been, I too wondered the same thing when I attended."

"I don't like it," Harry muttered. "Why can't I be just Harry?"

"I'm sorry you don't, but it's just a part of the Hogwarts decorum." Severus saw the boy's face fall, so he continued, knowing what the boy was truly asking. "However, since we are not currently on school grounds, I don't see why we would be obliged to follow such a formality."

"Really?"

"Yes, Harry." The child positively beamed, and a ghost of a smile touched Severus' lips, though he would never admit to it. The name still felt foreign on his tongue, but Severus figured that it wasn't the most drastic thing he'd had to grow accustomed to this summer. Harry's smile fell slightly.

"Why did you hate me so much before, sir?"

Now that was the question Severus had been afraid the boy would ask. He'd heard the boy's plea for him not to hate him again, and that in itself made Severus cringe. He sighed, he knew it would be better to just clear the air and get it over with, but that didn't mean that he was eager to do so. Taking a seat on the bed beside Harry, Severus tried to gather his thoughts and provide an explanation that didn't sound as juvenile as it actually was.

"I didn't hate _you_ , per say. You reminded me of someone else that I despised, and I took it out on you." Severus ducked his head in shame. Saying it outloud only confirmed how idiotic the whole thing was. "I cannot apologize enough for allowing my prejudices to blind me."

Harry didn't know how to respond to the remorseful man next to him. He'd spitefully pictured Snape apologizing to him, begging for forgiveness, many times after enduring an undeserved detention, but he never thought it would happen.

"It was my dad, wasn't it?" Harry muttered, making Snape look up in surprise. "Everyone tells me I look like him."

"Yes. It was."

"Was he like Dudley? You know, like-"

"Yes." Harry felt like he was falling even though he was still sitting on the bed. Everyone had told him that his dad was a hero, a good man, and a legendary seeker, but they had conveniently omitted that he was a bully. Harry had always held his dad at a certain esteem, someone he wanted to be just like, but now it felt like he'd died all over again in a very different way.

"I'm sorry," Harry whimpered. Tears blurred his vision as he remembered Dudley and his gang playing 'Harry Hunting'.

Severus couldn't believe what he was hearing. After berating the child and being cruel to him for an entire year, here he was apologizing to him for his father's sins.

"No, Harry, I am the only one who needs to be apologizing here. You were not responsible for his actions, and believe me when I say I didn't take any of it laying down," Severus said with a smirk. The boy mulled it over and nodded.

"I forgive you, sir. I know it was probably hard to see me everyday, and not him."

Severus shook his head at the child's insight, he was much too wise for his years.

"Thank you, Harry. I know I do not deserve your forgiveness."

"Yes you do!" The boy jumped to his knees, and put his hand on Severus' arm. "You found me, a-and made me better. You bought me clothes, and let me fly-"

"Harry-"

"No, sir, listen. You're there when I have nightmares, and let me cry even if it's for a long time. You've done more for me this summer than the Dursley's ever did, all while I still looked like my dad," the boy said, clearly determined to convince Severus.

"You are a bigger person than I'll ever be, Harry. Thank you." The boy didn't say anything, instead he leapt forward and wrapped his arms around Severus' middle. He didn't stiffen quite as much as before, and returned the embrace without such an awkward pause.

"Sir, I think I know who messed up your potions and the book," Harry said, voice muffled by Severus' robes.

"Who?"

The sound of glass crashing to the floor downstairs made them both jump. Severus drew his wand and hurried out of the room, Harry followed closely behind. More thumps and the sound of things getting knocked over came from the living room.

"Yous are a very bad elf!" A voice shrieked from downstairs. They hurried down the stairs and could hardly believe what they were seeing.

Flower was wrestling with another elf that was desperately trying to get away from her. She had one hand bunched up in the elf's pillowcase tunic, and the other had a tight grip on his ear. He managed to grab a book from the edge of the coffee table, and swing it backward, striking Flower in the face, but that didn't stop the enraged elf.

"Yous are the reason young master Harry be getting in trouble! How dare you try to hurt Flower's master!" Flower released his ear, and started hitting him with her narrow fists. Severus decided he better step in before the two elves bludgeoned each other to death. A well aimed spell stunned the rogue elf, making him lay rigid on the carpet. Realising her opponent was out of the fight, Flower released him and stood up, straightening her tunic.

"Flower, what on earth is going on?"

"Flower was cleaning and saw this very bad elf trying to break the trinkets on the mantle. I'm sorry Flower wasn't able to stop him in time before he smashed the pretty glass flower," she said breathlessly, still trying to catch her breath. "Flower made the wards so he couldn't apparate away."

"I see. Looks like the mystery is solved," Severus said, shooting Harry a look.

"That's was I was going to tell you, sir. Dobby was the one who dropped the dessert on Uncle Vernon's company, and then showed showed up here tryna get me not to go to Hogwarts."

"Dobby? The Malfoy's house elf?" Walking closer to the stunned creature on his carpet, Severus saw that it was indeed Lucius' elf. This was an interesting development indeed.

"Why didn't you tell me about this before?" He asked, turning to the child.

"I didn't think you'd believe that a house elf had it out for me. I thought it sounded pretty stupid." Severus nearly disagreed with him, but quickly realised that he probably would have assumed the boy had finally reached his breaking point.

"Harry, why don't you go entertain yourself for the afternoon. I have some rather pressing matters to attend to, and I'll be out of the manor for a moment," Severus said pointedly, levitating the stiff elf from the floor.

"Can I go flying?"

"Yes, you may."

After Harry had disappeared out the back door with his broom in hand, Severus stalked toward the floo, elf in tow. He had some questions that were not about to be left unanswered.


End file.
